


The Recluse

by Dazzlious



Series: Christmas Stories [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Malfoy Manor, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-18 05:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13093245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzlious/pseuds/Dazzlious
Summary: The second wizarding war has been over for more than a decade. Hermione, now working for the Ministry of Magic, is given an assignment that she doesn’t particularly want and is fairly sure she can’t complete, but pride and the need to show her unreasonable boss once and for all how good she is sends her to the last place on earth she wants to go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: As you know it’s become a bit of a tradition for me to post a festive story, and this year is no exception. This is my gift to you all for whichever type of celebration you may or may not involve yourselves in. I really hope you enjoy it. I also want to say thank you to my beta, Mamacita, as she is a fantastic friend and I’m lucky to have her. Happy Holidays everyone. Dx

 

‘Hermione. I want to see you in my office, immediately.’

Hermione looked up at the tall, stern woman who had opened her door just long enough to bark out the order before disappearing back into her office. She glanced across the desk at her colleague and sighed, rolling her eyes as she did so.

‘Wanna bet she’s got another crap job for me to do?’ she said as she put down her quill and stood up.

‘You never know, after all that excellent work on the Burke case, she might give you something decent this time. Eventually, she’s got to realise you’re her star performer,’ her colleague, Ben, told her.

Hermione gave a bitter laugh. ‘She already knows that, Ben. That’s why she keeps giving me the crap stuff to do. She’s annoyed because she knows I’ve outperformed her consistently and she’s worried that I might end up being promoted over her. That’s why she gives me the dross to clear up. She keeps hoping I’m going to fuck up and then she’ll have an excuse to get rid of me.’

‘Oh, _please_. Don’t you think you’re being just a tad overdramatic?’ the other occupant of their office announced with a sneer. ‘Everyone knows you don’t like Sylvia, including her, so no wonder she gives you all the crap cases. It serves you right.’

‘Shut up, Daphne, you’re not helping,’ Ben pointed out.

‘When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,’ Hermione snarled at the smirking witch. ‘For your information, I didn’t have a problem with Sylvia. She’s the one who has been confrontational and critical from the moment she arrived.’

‘Try not to think of it as dross work,’ Ben suggested, desperately trying to calm Hermione down before she went to see her boss. ‘Consider it a challenge that she wants to see if you can beat — and you always do, so feel proud about that.’

Daphne snorted and both Hermione and Ben shot her filthy looks.

'I’d better go before she starts yelling again,’ Hermione said, and with another loud sigh she went to the office, knocked on the door, and disappeared inside, closing the door behind her.

‘I don’t know why you have to keep winding Hermione up all the time, Daphne,’ Ben said with a frown once Hermione had left the office. 'She’s got it tough enough with Sylvia always on her back. She doesn’t need crap from you as well.’

‘I bet you were a Hufflepuff, weren’t you? Always trying to keep things on an even keel,’ Daphne said, the sneer back on her face.

‘So, what if I was?’ Ben asked.

‘I was at school with Hermione and she was a real bitch, even back then. Always thought she was better than everyone else, always so fucking superior. It’s about time she was taken down a peg or two. Anyway, why shouldn’t I put the boot in? She’d do the same to me if our roles were reversed,’ Daphne said.

Ben shook his head. ‘I don’t think she would. I’ve always found Hermione to be really supportive and helpful. And she _is_ better than everyone else — better than anyone I know, anyway. I think she puts up with a lot because she doesn’t want to trumpet her superiority.’

Daphne looked and sounded disgusted. ‘Well, of course, you would say that. You blokes are all the bloody same. None of you can see past the end of your dicks, and all you see with Hermione is a pretty woman. There was only ever one man who saw her as she really was, and he was never afraid to tell her what he thought of her.’

‘I’m not thinking with my dick,’ Ben said, throwing Daphne an appalled look. ‘I can’t help that you’re jealous of her because she’s good at her job, better at magic than you, nicer than you are and prettier, too. Perhaps you wouldn’t be so ugly if you stopped being such a bitch. There’s nothing that says that just because you were a Slytherin you have to be mean all the time.’

‘Oh, of course you’re going to stick up for _her_ ,’ Daphne said sulkily. She opened a large book on her desk and began to read, completely ignoring Ben.

Ben played with his quill as he watched the door, waiting for a sign that Hermione was about to emerge. He couldn’t hear any shouting, which was a good sign. Perhaps Sylvia had finally done the decent thing and given Hermione a job equal to her talents for once. Merlin only knew the woman deserved one after some of the cases she had somehow managed to successfully clear up. Then again, perhaps silence meant that Hermione had finally snapped and had done something terrible to their boss.

‘Your girlfriend’s very quiet,’ Daphne remarked snidely. ‘Do you think Sylvia’s sacked her?’

Ben’s head shot round to glare at Daphne. ‘Sylvia has no reason to fire Hermione. She’s completed every task she’s had allocated to her. If anything, she should be getting a promotion. You want to look to your own success rate if we’re talking about sacking. Sylvia won’t keep covering for you, not if her stats start to drop. The first hint that she’s not producing consistent results and she’ll throw you to the wolves to make sure they don’t get to her.’

‘I still reckon she’d get rid of Hermione first,’ Daphne retorted, not sounding all that bothered.

‘She probably would if she thought she could get away with it. But Hermione’s work record speaks for itself, and she’s got friends in high places at the Ministry. She might not involve them on a day-to-day basis but you can bet that if she suddenly found herself without a job Sylvia would get a visit from one of the other Heads of Department, or maybe even the Minister for Magic himself.’

Daphne snorted. ‘The Minister for Magic. Don’t be ridiculous. He’s got slightly more important things to deal with than Hermione Granger.’

‘Don’t you believe it, Daphne. Kingsley thinks very highly of Hermione and her skills. I think Sylvia’s only still here because Hermione hasn’t told him how Sylvia treats her,’ Ben informed her.

After another couple of minutes the door opened and both Ben and Daphne went silent as they watched Hermione walk, straight-backed, out of the office and close the door quietly but firmly. Her face was expressionless and inscrutable, giving no sign of what she was thinking. She returned to her desk, picked up her handbag and, without saying anything to her colleagues, headed for the door, collecting her cloak from the coat rack on the way.

Ben stared after her, wondering whether he should say something or if it would be more prudent to remain silent. Once she reached the door, Hermione looked back.

‘I’m going to lunch now. I’ll see you both later. Do you want anything while I’m out?’

Her voice was as neutral as her stance, leaving both her colleagues in absolutely no doubt that she was furious. Hurriedly, both Daphne and Ben answered in the negative and Hermione left, still counting silently in her mind, trying her hardest to remain calm. Once she was along the corridor, well away from her office, she let the tranquil façade drop; the fury that was racing through her made her stride angrily down corridors and stairs until she arrived at another office. She threw open the door and stepped inside.

Harry took one look at Hermione’s expression and stood up, moving across the room to join her.

‘I’ll see you later, Dean,’ he told his colleague, who was also staring at Hermione.

‘She’s not happy,’ Dean warned in a low voice.

Harry sighed. ‘No, I can see that for myself, thanks. I think we'd best leave the building as soon as possible.’

Taking hold of Hermione’s arm, Harry led her towards the lift, not saying anything as he knew this was by far the safest option. Once Hermione spoke she was going to blow her top and he really didn’t want that happening inside the Ministry of Magic — the fallout would be far too great.

Inside the lift, Hermione stood there with pursed lips looking for all the world as if she was getting ready to let rip. Harry stared at her across the crowded box, silently begging her to remain silent for just a little longer. With so many people in the lift, it was going too slowly for his liking, but there was nothing he could do about it. Walking wasn’t going to be any quicker. When they finally reached the ground floor Harry took Hermione’s arm again and rushed her across the Atrium and out through security.

As they descended the stairs onto the small road he asked, ‘Where do you want to go?’

‘Embankment Gardens,’ Hermione said tersely.

They crossed the road and began to walk towards the gate that led to the park Hermione had mentioned. Once they were inside, Harry led her to a bench about halfway down on the left-hand side. The park was almost empty because of the frigid winter weather, but the location of the bench gave Hermione enough space to let rip without the sound travelling too far — particularly back to the Ministry.

‘Do you want to sit down while I get us something to eat and drink?’ Harry asked, hoping that Hermione wasn’t going to refuse. He had missed breakfast that morning and had been looking forward to something substantial for lunch, but now it looked like he might not get anything at all.

Hermione scowled for a moment but then gave a brief nod.

‘I won’t be long,’ Harry promised, and he raced for the other gate to the park before Hermione had a chance to change her mind.

Hermione sat on the bench, her hands still clenched into tight fists. She was trying hard to calm herself down so she could talk to Harry sensibly and without ranting, but it was so hard. How she had managed to contain herself for so long she had no idea, and the fact that she had managed to listen to what Sylvia had to say and get out of her office without saying a word in response was nothing short of a miracle.

As she waited, a stiff breeze wrapped itself around her, making her shiver. If she was honest, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do more — rage angrily or cry. Both were definitely valid reactions right now. Sylvia was just lucky that Hermione had managed to rein in her temper during their discussion and had left her wand in her handbag, otherwise the other woman would probably be being transported to St Mungo’s to join Gilderoy Lockhart by now. 

She saw Harry hurrying back across the park, his hands full of brown paper bags and large cardboard cups. Good, now she wasn’t alone she could let out the pain she was feeling without being seen by any passers-by as a complete raving lunatic. She let out a loud scream, a mixture of rage, frustration and pain, just as Harry reached the bench, studying her carefully.

Hermione finally unclenched her fists, opening her hands to reveal eight small crescent wounds in the palms from where her nails had dug in as she clenched them so tightly. Some of them had even broken the skin and blood was welling up, small pinpricks of ruby red against the pale skin.

‘Are you all right, Hermione?’ Harry finally asked as he put the food and drink in the middle of the bench.

Hermione shook her head, lachrymose now.

Harry sighed and knelt in front of her. He took her hands gently and stared at her injured palms. He looked around to check they were alone, then pulled his wand from his pocket and used it to heal the cuts on her hands.

‘What did she say this time?’ he asked quietly, already knowing what the problem was going to be. It was _always_ the same problem.

Hermione wiped away the tears that had started falling as she debated what to say.

‘She’s sending me to Malfoy Manor.’

Harry looked surprised at the revelation.

‘She can’t. Doesn’t she know? Surely there must be someone else—’

‘She knows and she doesn’t care, does she? For her it’s perfect. This is a major assignment, and if I fail with it — which, let’s face it, I’m going to — then it’ll give her the ammunition she needs to get rid of me finally. I’m just so bloody annoyed because there’s nothing I can do.’

‘You could have a word with Kingsley,’ Harry said.

Hermione snorted. ‘I can’t do that. You know I can’t.’

‘I’ve never understood your attitude on this. If I was in your position I would do something about her,’ Harry admitted.

Hermione shrugged and sighed loudly. Harry thought she looked defeated. It wasn’t a good look on her. He moved to sit next to her on the bench and picked up one of the paper bags and cups, holding them out for her.

‘I got you a tuna salad sandwich and a cup of tea from the cabman’s shelter.’

Hermione gave him a small grin through her tears as she took the proffered food from him. He picked up his own bag and unwrapped a sandwich that steamed gently in the chilly air. Hermione stared at it interestedly.

Harry shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed. ‘It’s egg, bacon and sausage. I didn’t think you’d want one.’

‘You’re right. The tuna is perfect. Thank you, Harry.’

‘So why have you got to go to Malfoy Manor?’ Harry asked once they were well into their sandwiches and Hermione had finally calmed down a little.

‘The Ministry wants to recover the money Lucius owes them for the fines they imposed on the Death Eaters. Obviously, he has nothing left since his incarceration; he cleverly transferred his entire wealth, including Malfoy Manor, to Draco just before he was arrested and sent to prison. But you know the Ministry was never going to let him get away with that, so they lodged an appeal. After several years and a lot of consideration the Wizengamot finally upheld the appeal, so Draco must pay his father’s fines.

‘The problem is that no one’s seen him since the end of the war, and every communication they’ve sent him over the last couple of years has been ignored. Somehow, the Ministry got permission to access the records to his account at Gringotts and they discovered that he’s pretty well broke, so there’s nothing to be recovered from there. That being the case, they’ll need to take it from the estate instead, and it’s up to me to go down there and inventory everything to see what’s worth selling.’

‘Urgh, not the best task in the world even under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have thought,’ Harry said sympathetically. ‘But to have to go _there_ and deal with . . . _him_ . . . .’ 

Hermione sighed. ‘Exactly. I’m sure you can imagine just as well as me what sort of reception I’m likely to get.’

‘But Sylvia’s patently harassing you with her behaviour, Hermione. If she really does know about what happened to you in that house, then making you go there is not only cruel but it’s downright dangerous to your mental welfare. What if it triggers PTSD or something?’ Harry was beginning to get annoyed himself now.

‘That would probably help her to get rid of me,’ Hermione pointed out bitterly.

‘Well, I still think you need to tell someone. If you don’t want to involve Kingsley, why don’t you talk to Arthur about it — or Percy? You get on with him well enough. They’re both at the same level as Sylvia and they might be able to talk some sense into her or at least warn her of the trouble she could be stirring up by giving you that assignment.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘But that’s the point, Harry, she wants to stir up trouble. She wants me to fail and I can’t let her get away with it. Of course I don’t want to go to Malfoy Manor and I certainly have no desire to set eyes on Draco Malfoy ever again either, but I won’t let her beat me, which is what I would be doing if I got someone to talk to her or got myself taken off the case. I know I would still have my job but my pride would take a major bashing, and that’s the last thing I need at the moment.

‘It’s not going to be easy, though. Assuming I can even get Draco to talk to me I don’t think he’ll be very happy about me going through all his possessions to see what I can sell, and I have no idea what I can say to him to make him understand that he has no choice but to do it. I can’t imagine him wanting to take advice from me — that’s if he’ll even let me in the house in the first place.’

‘So, what’s the timescale on this?’ Harry asked.

‘Immediate. I have to go down there tomorrow and see if I can get access to the house. Then, somehow, I have to get Draco to accept the Wizengamot’s ruling and agree to sell his possessions. Merlin only knows how long the cataloguing will take — you know how big Malfoy Manor is — and I don’t even know what he’s like now. He’s been a total recluse since the war. I have no idea whether he’s even healthy or sane.

‘Sylvia made it crystal clear that she expects me to get the whole project wrapped up and filed before Christmas so that’s the deadline I have to work with, even if it is completely bloody unrealistic. It would be a major stretch even if Draco was complicit and willing to help me out, but I’m expecting him to be his usual belligerent and uncooperative self so I have no idea how I’m going to meet that target,’ Hermione answered tersely.

Harry frowned. ‘I have to admit I don’t much like the idea of you going down there on your own when Malfoy is such an unknown quantity, Hermione. Can’t someone else go with you? What about Ben? I’m sure he would go if you asked him to, wouldn’t he?’

‘He probably would, but Sylvia says she can’t spare him because we’ve got Jeremy out on holiday for a couple of weeks. Apparently, I’m the only one who can be allowed out of the office at the moment.’

Hermione looked at Harry’s tense expression and patted his hand soothingly.

‘I’m sure it will be fine, Harry. Either Draco will be perfectly equitable and I’ll have been worrying for nothing or he won’t let me in at all, in which case there’s nothing I can do about that and Sylvia can crow as much as she likes about me failing. But then she’ll have to find someone else to do it and that’ll mean asking for help outside the department, and she really hates doing that.’

‘At least you’ve calmed down now,’ Harry said. He took the lid off his tea and blew on it before taking a sip.

‘It was lucky I didn’t have my wand when I went into see her or I’d have hexed the old cow,’ Hermione admitted.

‘Probably for the best that you didn’t do that,’ Harry said, but he flashed her a wicked grin and Hermione knew he was imagining it.

Once Hermione had finished her tea she said, ‘I suppose I should get back and work out some sort of strategy for approaching Draco. I don’t think there’s any point in sending him an owl. The Ministry has sent several already and he’s never replied or even acknowledged receipt of any of the letters. I suppose I shall just have to turn up on his doorstep and hope he lets me in. I’ve no idea what I’m going to do if he doesn’t, though. Maybe I need to see if I can find a hotel in the area, just in case. It would be easier to stay down there than have to keep travelling backwards and forwards.’

‘Do you want to see if Ron can go with you?’ Harry asked.

Hermione grimaced. ‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea. If anyone’s going to get upset about being at Malfoy Manor, it’s Ron. Knowing him, he’ll feel compelled to avenge what was done to me or something stupid like that, and you know how much he dislikes Draco. No, I’m pretty certain that all he’d do is make things that much worse. Anyway, it’s their busiest time of the year so I don’t think George can really afford to lose him and to be honest, I don’t even want to ask.’

‘I wish I could go with you,’ Harry said, ‘but unfortunately we’re really busy at the moment and there’s no one spare in our office either.’

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, now beginning to feel the cold.

‘Don’t worry about it, Harry. I’m sure it will be fine, honestly.’

Relieved when he seemed to take her at her word, Hermione stood up and threw the now empty cup and bag into the rubbish bin to the left of the bench. Harry followed suit, and as the two of them wandered arm-in-arm slowly back to the Ministry of Magic he told Hermione about Ginny’s most recent training sessions with the Holyhead Harpies, for whom she had just started playing again after a break to have children.

Once they were back at the lift, Hermione hugged Harry.

‘Thank you again, Harry.’

He grinned. ‘Anytime, you know that, Hermione. Don’t let the old cow get you down.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t,’ Hermione promised as they stepped into the lift.

‘Good luck with Malfoy,’ Harry said when they reached his floor and he was about to depart.

Hermione waved at him as the door closed and she leant back against the wall of the lift. She had absolutely no idea what she was going to do to convince Draco to let her into Malfoy Manor but she was determined that she wasn’t going to fail with this assignment. She would not give Sylvia that satisfaction.

She smiled brightly as she entered the office, pleased to see that her unexpectedly sunny mood made Daphne scowl unpleasantly. She dropped her bag onto the desk and sat down as she continued to ponder how best to initiate contact with Draco. Perhaps she should send an owl, just to warn him she was coming. But if she did that it would give him time to prepare against her, or to hide his valuables so she would find nothing but a few worm-ridden bits of old furniture and, no doubt, an extensive collection of paintings of the Malfoy family.

‘So are you ready to share what your next assignment is, now that you’ve calmed down a bit?’ Ben asked.

He was staring at her avidly. Even Daphne, who was pretending to work, kept looking in her direction as if waiting to hear the details.

‘Make me a cup of tea and I’ll tell you,’ Hermione bargained.

Ben rolled his eyes but then stood up and grabbed his and Hermione’s mugs. He looked at Daphne. ‘Do you want a tea?’

‘Go on then.’ Daphne held out her mug for him.

A few minutes later he was back.

‘I assume you’ve got something awful again,’ Ben suggested once he was settled back behind his desk. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so angry.’

‘I was pretty peeved,’ Hermione admitted. ‘And yes, it’s a really shitty job with an extremely challenging timescale to match.’

‘So what is it?’ Ben asked.

Hermione told him, watching his face drop as he realised what Sylvia had inflicted upon her.

Daphne laughed nastily. ‘Sylvia’s finally managed to stitch you up, Hermione. You’ve got no chance of succeeding because Draco won’t even let you into the house. No one’s been in or out of there for almost a decade. And you know how much he _hates_ you.’

‘There was some animosity between us in the past, but I’m sure he’s a reasonable man so hopefully, we’ll be able to have a sensible and constructive discussion and come to some sort of arrangement.’ As she said this, Hermione thought about the Draco she remembered from school. Reasonable was definitely not a word she would have associated with him then.

‘More like he’s gone completely doolally,’ Daphne opined. ‘The war turned him funny, not helped by his father being sent to Azkaban. Then his mother died, and that was it. None of us ever saw or heard from him again and the gates of Malfoy Manor were closed forever.’

Hermione shrugged, seemingly uncaring. ‘Well, there’s only one way I’m going to find out. If I can’t get him to see reason then Sylvia will have to talk to the Magical Law Enforcement bods to see if someone from one of their teams can talk some sense into him.’

‘Are you going to be okay to go to Malfoy Manor?’ Ben asked anxiously. ‘You had a bit of a problem the last time you were there, didn’t you?’

‘I have to admit it doesn’t hold the happiest memories ever,’ Hermione conceded quietly. ‘But I really don’t have any choice but to go. Draco hasn’t responded to any of the owls the Ministry has sent him so far, so face-to-face confrontation is the only sensible option, unfortunately. Plus, I’ll need to inventory the estate and I can’t do that from behind this desk, can I?’

‘You’ve been to Malfoy Manor before?’ Daphne asked, sounding surprised. ‘When did you go there?’

‘We ended up there during the war after we were captured by a snatcher gang,’ Hermione said, her voice bland and emotionless. ‘They took us there because they knew it was the place Voldemort was using as his base and they were hoping to get a big reward for capturing Harry Potter and his friends.

‘While we there, Draco’s mad aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, decided to torture me for information. It was extremely painful and the most terrifying experience I’ve ever had in my life. I honestly thought I was going to die, but fortunately, Harry and Ron managed to save me just before she succeeded in killing me and we escaped.’

Daphne looked stunned at Hermione’s words.

‘You were tortured and almost killed?’ she said quietly, a frown crossing her face. ‘Does Sylvia know about that?’

‘Of course she does,’ Hermione said coldly. ‘She’ll have seen my records. Let’s put it this way: it’s definitely no coincidence that she’s sending me to the one place I have no desire to ever visit again.’

‘You should refuse to go,’ Daphne told her, all animosity between them set aside for a few seconds. ‘It’s not fair of her to send you there, Hermione. She can’t do that — not after what happened to you there.’

‘Unfortunately, she can and she has and there’s nothing I can do about it, Daphne. It’s been assigned to me now. But I’m sure it will be fine.’

Hermione had no idea what the look was that Daphne gave her then but she could see the sympathy in Ben’s eyes and it made her stomach curl uncomfortably.

‘And now it’s time for me to start planning how to tackle this almost impossible task,’ she said to no one in particular, as she put down her now empty mug.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione stared at the massive wrought iron gates that were firmly shut against visitors. There was no bell so she had no idea how she was supposed to attract the attention of the inhabitants within. She peered through the bars, staring down the long drive towards a large and imposing manor house.

Malfoy Manor seemed darker and more malevolent than she remembered it, which was strange because she and her friends had been brought there at night, and the mad witch Bellatrix Lestrange had been a resident in the manor at the time, and it was hard to imagine anyone more rancorous than her.

The house looked gloomy and forbidding. Dark swathes of ivy covered the outside of the grimy building, but although caked with dirt, the myriad lead-paned windows seemed to glint, giving Hermione the impression that someone within was watching. From the general disrepair and the overgrown and neglected state of the gardens, it was clear that Malfoy Manor hadn’t been the recipient of any loving care for quite some time.

For a moment, Hermione wondered whether Lucius was aware of the bad state of repair into which Draco had allowed the Malfoy estate to fall and what he thought about it. Perhaps he hadn’t been told as there was nothing he could do about it locked away in Azkaban, the prison where he was due to spend at least another two decades before being given any chance of release. Regardless, Malfoy Manor and any remaining money that went with it belonged to Draco now, not Lucius, and the son was entitled to do whatever he wanted with the property, including leaving it to go to wrack and ruin.

Perhaps a lack of money had contributed to its mouldering state, too. The manor must require a considerable amount of money to keep it looking at its best, and with Draco apparently not having left the grounds for almost a decade it was unclear whether there was any money being generated within the family — probably not, if the almost empty Gringotts vault was anything to go by. Whatever the case, there was no obvious entrance into the grounds other than through the main gate, and her presence hadn’t attracted any signs of life, either in the house or gardens, so it was unlikely she was going to get inside today.

Hermione had already walked as much of the perimeter of the estate as she could access and there was definitely no way in, not that she could see, anyway. With twilight coming so early in the day this close to the end of the year and with the temperature dropping considerably, she was beginning to feel chilly despite her thick cloak, and her feet were cold, her boots not as warm as they could be.

Although it was frustrating, Hermione knew she had to give up for today, had to go back to her room at the pub in the quaint and extremely picturesque village a mile down the road and try again tomorrow when she was feeling warmer and more refreshed.

She took one last look at the house. There was no sign of any light within, even though it was beginning to get dark, and there were no lamps outside either. It was as if the whole place was dead. Hermione shuddered at the thought. Then, trying to force down her disappointment, she Disapparated to an alleyway next to the pub she was staying in. Having checked that no one had seen her, she made her way into the welcome, warming environment, sighing with pleasure at the heat that hit her like an intense wave as she walked through the door.

Hermione walked to the bar to get a drink, looking around her at the patrons while she waited. She knew the village was dual occupancy, predominantly Muggle but with several wizarding families also making their homes there. As far as she could tell the current customers were all Muggle so it wasn’t going to be worth her while talking to any of them about Malfoy Manor. She had no idea what sort of charms and wards protected the estate from discovery by Muggles, but knowing how magically powerful the Malfoys had been she assumed they would be extremely effective.

She took her drink to a small table in the inglenook, feeling the need to sit near the glorious roaring fire. Hermione removed her cloak and threw it over the spare chair, then sat down in the other and picked up the menu, studying it as she debated what to have for dinner. Ten minutes later she had decided on a homemade steak and kidney pie with mashed potatoes and seasonal vegetables, and another twenty after that she was gazing at the appetising meal that had just been placed in front of her by a smiling waitress, along with another glass of wine.

As she ate her dinner Hermione thought back to her visit to Malfoy Manor. Remembering how empty and unloved the place seemed to be she began to wonder for the first time whether Draco was actually still alive.

She couldn’t believe the Ministry hadn’t already checked, and there had been no announcement or obituary in any of the newspapers, at least not as far as she could recall, but it was possible that having locked himself away from the world for whatever reason, Draco might have fallen ill, and with the house-elves unable to break their master’s command about leaving the house they would not have been able to get help for him.

After all her work on house-elf rights in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione was well aware that house-elves could be an extremely funny bunch, particularly those that had been attached to a family through several generations, as they had effectively been brainwashed over time. Harry’s house-elf, Kreacher, had been a prime example of this but had also shown that with time and a lot of subtle encouragement house-elves could be persuaded to change their natures completely.

Was it possible that the Malfoy house-elves had kept hold of Draco’s body after he had perished, unable to accept the loss of their final master? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had happened; the Ministry of Magic archives contained more than a few such stories. In such cases, it quite often took several years for the death to come to light, and then only because of some investigation like the one she was currently undertaking.

If Draco was dead that would certainly explain why he had never answered any of the letters that had been sent about recovering the compensation his father owed, and it would go a long way towards answering why there was no money left in Gringotts and why Malfoy Manor was in such a bad state of repair. The house-elves wouldn’t be expecting Lucius back, and with no current master to care for they would let the place fall apart around them and their dead master as they had no interest in caring for themselves.  

With a slightly sinking heart, Hermione realised that she hoped she wasn’t right. While she might not have got on with Draco Malfoy during their time at school she had never wished him harm. The idea that the unfortunate man, who had in his own way suffered just as much as she and her friends during the war, had come to a sad end was incredibly dispiriting.

Surely there was another reason for his disappearance; she should stop being so pessimistic. Once she talked to some of the locals she would find out the truth. It was entirely possible that while the Ministry of Magic and the greater wizarding community were convinced Draco had become a recluse, he might, actually, be living a perfectly normal life and be regularly visible within his local community.

As Hermione ate the delicious apple crumble and custard she had ordered after her main course, she decided she shouldn’t jump to conclusions just because Malfoy Manor wasn’t being kept up in the way she would have expected. It was entirely possible that Draco detested the place as much as she did — after all, he had spent his whole life living there and had been incarcerated there for several months during the war with both Voldemort and Bellatrix breathing down his neck, not to mention all the Death Eaters and other sundry ne’er-do-wells who regularly visited his father.

Perhaps the reality was that once Lucius had been sent to Azkaban and Draco had received the money, he had cleared out the vault at Gringotts and abandoned Malfoy Manor for a quiet life elsewhere, one not encumbered by his family name. It was even possible that he had gone abroad, maybe changing his name if not his easily-recognisable looks.

Hermione cursed herself for this particular train of thought. If that was the case she was never going to be able to track him down, not unless a miracle occurred.

But she was getting ahead of herself again, and assumptions did no one any good. Her best bet was to go to her room and have a shower and get changed, then return to the bar for a couple more drinks. Hopefully, by that time some wizards would have appeared and she could begin her investigations in earnest. Otherwise, she was just overthinking everything and getting nowhere fast, which was a pointless waste of her time and energy.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione walked towards the metal gates of Malfoy Manor once more. It was a chilly day, but at least it was dry and didn’t look like there was any chance of rain or snow, thank Merlin. As she walked she considered once again what she had been told the previous night by a couple of wizards who had stopped by the pub for what was, apparently, their regular late-night session.

Both were extremely old, heading on towards triple figures if she was any judge, and they had been happy to talk to her at great length about Malfoy Manor and the family that lived there. And as both had resided in the area all their lives it seemed they knew a great deal about the so-called lords of the manor.

They confirmed what Hermione already knew, that Draco Malfoy had disappeared into the estate and hadn’t been seen for the best part of ten years — since the day of his mother’s funeral, they explained before going on to describe the event in rather more detail than Hermione really needed to hear. However, they were both also equally certain that he was still alive.

When Hermione questioned them as to why they were so convinced, Burt, the younger of the two, told her that Draco had been seen within the grounds several times over the years, particularly on the anniversary of his mother’s death and on her birthday. On both those dates, he would visit the mausoleum, which was housed in the far eastern corner of the estate, laying flowers and spending time with her.

Hermione wasn’t sure this indicated that Draco had a sane mind, but at least he was at Malfoy Manor and still alive. What she had to do was to work out a way to get in there and then she could assess the situation further. The problem was that she still had no idea how to do that, other than waiting around to see if someone left the house.

Burt and his friend, Albert, had given Hermione some advice on that, too, assuring her that although the place looked deserted and neglected, house-elves could often be seen walking around the grounds and that eventually, they would communicate with her if she made her presence obvious enough.

They weren’t all that optimistic about her chances of getting to talk to Draco, but Hermione was certain she could make enough of a nuisance of herself that he would eventually grant her an audience, however brief. If not, she would just have to wait until the twelfth of December — Narcissa Malfoy’s birthday — when she would hopefully gain sight of the man himself.

It wasn’t the ideal plan, as it would mean having to explain to Sylvia why it was taking her so long to complete the assignment and it would give her very little time to get the inventory of Malfoy Manor completed, especially as she really wanted the case concluded and closed by Christmas. The sooner she could get away from this one, the better.

Pulling her wand from her pocket, Hermione tried to open the gate. She had no expectation of it working — indeed, she expected Draco to have put strong repelling charms on the whole perimeter, but at least it would alert those within the house to her presence, and with any luck, someone would come to check it out. She just wished the assignment had been given to her back in the summer when the weather had been better, but her luck never ran that well, especially when Sylvia was involved.  

 

 

* * *

 

 

It had now been four days since Hermione had arrived in the village of Winterslow, and so far she had experienced nothing but frustration where Draco Malfoy was concerned. Although she had spent almost all day every day using her wand to fruitlessly attack the defences around the Malfoy estate, she had so far gained no ground in getting inside, and disappointingly, no one from the house had come to check out what she was up to, either.

Hermione was aware that if she had no luck today she would need to return to the office, even if only briefly, to update Sylvia on what was happening with the assignment, and she wasn’t very happy at the idea of returning with negative news. She had a difficult enough battle against her ignorant and biased boss when she was succeeding in her work; to admit she was failing would probably be enough for Sylvia to attempt to get rid of her, even though it had only been a few days.

It wouldn’t work, of course, but that wouldn’t stop the stupid woman from trying, and Hermione wanted to spare her the embarrassment despite knowing that if the roles were reversed Sylvia wouldn’t lift a finger to help her.

It wasn’t in Hermione’s nature to be vindictive though, so she had so far purposely kept her troubles a secret from those of her friends who were at a level to be able to step in on her behalf and sort things out. But if Sylvia tried to get her sacked she would have no choice but to deploy the big guns, and heaven help the terse, arrogant witch who thought she was so much better than Hermione then.

Hermione tapped her wand on the gate, trying yet another spell to open it. It didn’t help that she didn’t have a clue what wards were in place. It could be absolutely anything, and without knowing the correct combination of spells she would be there forever unless she got extraordinarily lucky. But the thought of the battle that lay ahead back at the Ministry of Magic was enough to keep her there and trying when someone else would surely have given up.

When the latest combination of spells failed and Hermione’s fingers were getting so cold she was having trouble holding her wand, she retrieved a flask from the messenger bag she was carrying, and sitting down against the ivy-covered wall she unscrewed the cap and poured a steaming cup of tea. She was grateful that the Muggle landlord, Mike of the Red Lion, was willing to provide her with tea and a packed lunch every day so she didn’t have to leave her quarry during daylight hours.

Hermione had told him she was an author who was doing research for a book she was thinking of setting in the area and he had been eminently helpful in identifying local areas of mysticism — standing stones and such like. It was through him she had discovered what the glamour on Malfoy Manor was, when he warned her to keep away from the crumbling and dangerous ruin that lay to the north of the village.

As far as the Muggle inhabitants were concerned, the vast estate of Malfoy Manor had once been a Norman keep that had been partly destroyed in various skirmishes against the local barons in the middle ages and had been completely razed to the ground during the aftermath of the battle of Roundway Down in 1643, when the King’s Cavaliers had thoroughly trounced the Parliamentarians who had been besieging Devizes.

All that was left, she was told, was a large amount of rubble and a lot of unexposed sinkholes that made the land too dangerous to traverse. Hermione had been directed to a public footpath that skirted the perimeter of the manor and warned that she shouldn’t stray from it if she wanted to stay safe.

She had just finished her tea and screwed the plastic cup back on the flask when she realised something had changed. She had seen a movement in the grounds, she was sure she had. Jumping up, Hermione moved back to the gate and pressed her face against the ice-cold bars as she scanned the bleak landscape looking for any sign of life.

It took another ten minutes before there was any further movement, but then she saw two small house-elves carrying wooden boxes, walking along one of the paths that led up to the house. Without thinking, she called out, waving her arms above her head as she tried to attract them.

The house-elves stopped at the sound and turned to look in Hermione’s direction. They were too far away to see their expressions but she suspected they were surprised that they had been noticed — there were few people in the area who would have been able to see them, and it was unlikely that any of them spent much time in the vicinity these days. After a couple of seconds' pause they turned to walk away, so Hermione cried out again, partly in frustration and to let them know she had seen them and wanted to talk.

The elves looked at each other as if debating, then the older and larger of the two broke away to walk towards the gate while its fellow continued back to the house. Hermione waited for the aged elf to join her, crossing her fingers that she would be able to convince it to let her in.

‘You is not wanted here. You should go away.’ The house-elf's croaky voice sounded bitter as it reached the gate.

Hermione stared at the box. It contained a selection of fresh vegetables, homegrown, she suspected, from the look of them.

‘I need to speak to Draco Malfoy. I have been informed that he is at home but I don’t know how to get through the gate. Can you let me in, please?’ Before the house-elf could say anything, she added, ‘I’m from the Ministry of Magic if that helps. I am here on official business.’

The house-elf looked anxious at Hermione’s words. It had clearly heard of the Ministry of Magic and was probably aware that a visit by an official representative was important and not something that could be easily ignored — it no doubt remembered the raids the Ministry had undertaken before and after the war — but at the same time it had its orders, and they were obviously to repel all potential intruders regardless of who they were. Hermione knew that unless she did something the poor elf was likely to move into self-harm mode as it tried to fight the two diametrically opposed orders.   

Keeping her voice calm she said, ‘I’m aware that your master wishes to remain isolated and has instructed you not to allow any visitors onto the estate, but I’m afraid I have no choice but to talk to him. Even if I leave today I will be back and will keep coming back until Draco decides to speak to me.

‘I understand that you have orders not to let me into the property, and I wouldn’t want to cause a problem for you by making you disobey those orders, but it is vital I speak to Draco as soon as possible. So, if you can’t open the gate and let me in can you please return to the house and inform your master that Hermione Granger from the Ministry of Magic is here and wishes to talk to him as soon as possible? I will wait here for the answer.’

The house-elf looked unhappy at Hermione’s request but, aware that it was the best it was going to get, it nodded and trudged its slow way back up the path towards the house. Hermione checked her watch. It was just gone midday, almost lunchtime. Her mind returned to the succulent-looking vegetables the house-elf had been carrying. The place might be in a state of disrepair but somewhere on the estate were vegetable plots and greenhouses and they were obviously being well cared for.

More than ten minutes later, and just when Hermione was beginning to think the house-elf had ignored her request, there was movement from behind the gate. Hermione realised that it wasn’t the house-elf returning, the figure was far too large and lean. For some reason, although she had no idea why, her heart started to race as she became aware that Draco Malfoy himself was coming towards her.

‘Good afternoon, Draco,’ she said as pleasantly as she could manage while the man was still making his way towards her. She was determined to set the tone and make it as non-confrontational as possible.

Draco scowled fiercely, which did nothing to improve his countenance. He was extremely gaunt, with skin even paler than Hermione remembered it; dark circles rimming his eyes made him look haunted and indicated he was probably an insomniac. He was also dressed in drab and somewhat threadbare clothes that had definitely seen better days and hung loosely off his bony frame.

Hermione was shocked at his appearance although she tried hard not to show it. It was almost impossible to believe that this shattered wreck of a man was the once-handsome boy she had been at school with.

‘Go away, Granger. I don’t want to talk to you.’ Draco’s voice was harsh and rasping as if underused.

‘I’m sure you know that I would never have come here unless I had no other choice,’ Hermione pointed out, trying to keep her tone calm and non-antagonistic. ‘I understand the Ministry of Magic has sent you several owls but you’ve ignored all their communications.’

Draco shrugged. ‘I live a quiet and simple life on my own and don’t need any disturbances . . . especially from the Ministry of Magic.’

‘Can I come in to discuss why I’m here rather than shouting through the gate?’ Hermione requested politely.

Draco stared at her for a moment and his eyes glittered dangerously. ‘Do you really want to come in here, Granger, remembering what happened last time you were here?’

Hermione’s mouth set in a thin line. ‘As I said before, I’d rather _not_ be here, but I have a job to do so I have no choice. I assume that as you’re such a private man you don’t want me advertising your business to anyone who might be in the area so I would be grateful for a few minutes of your time.’

Draco snorted bitterly. ‘A few minutes. I think what you’re here to do is going to take a lot longer than that, isn’t it?’ He sighed, then pulled his wand from his pocket, whispering as he waved it. Sounding resigned, he said, ‘Come in, then, if you must.’

Hermione felt a ripple like a faint breeze upon her skin as the wards keeping her out of Malfoy Manor were removed. The huge gates swung open with an ominous creak. She took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold, waiting to see if Draco had something nasty up his sleeve.

A moment later she relaxed as she realised she was fine, the gates already clanking shut behind her. For a moment, her heart was in her mouth as she was reminded of the last time she had been taken to the house, but knowing it had no place in her current work she pushed the thoughts away, hoping Draco hadn’t noticed her slight reticence.

But the blond-haired man had already turned away and was walking back towards the manor house, his long stride fast enough that Hermione had to hurry to catch up with him. Neither of them spoke as they walked.

Once they entered the house through a door that took them into the entrance hall, Draco barked out some orders that Hermione couldn’t understand in a deep, rasping voice. There was the sound of nervous skittering as house-elves rushed about the place, performing whatever tasks Draco had commanded of them.

He motioned towards a closed door just to their left.

‘We’ll go in there.’

Hermione followed Draco, glancing around her appraisingly. The inside of the house was showing a state of disrepair but hadn’t yet reached the proportions she had expected from viewing the outside. Although dingy and in need of both refurbishment and some minor repairs the interior was tidy and clean, no doubt thanks to the hard work of the house-elves.

The room Draco had led her to was a study and she was pleased to see there was a decent fire blazing away in the hearth. She sat down in the chair opposite Draco and removed her outerwear as he made his way around the desk.

Hermione had considered many times since taking the case how she was going to open negotiations with the Malfoy scion and now decided, seeing his still scowling face, that cutting straight to the chase and sticking to the facts was probably going to be the most sensible option.  

‘Well, I think you know why I’m here,’ she began.

Draco merely stared at her, his hands resting on the desk, fingers interlaced. His gaze was unnervingly intense.

Hermione swallowed and continued, ‘The Ministry of Magic has sent you a number of letters over the last couple of years — I don’t know if you actually read any of them?’

Draco continued to stare, saying nothing.

She sighed. ‘As part of their sentences the Death Eaters, including your father, were ordered to pay the Ministry of Magic significant sums of money to be used as compensation for those who were attacked during the war and towards the costs of rebuilding the wizarding world in the aftermath. Your father’s contribution to this fund runs to a sum of some two hundred thousand Galleons, which was calculated on your father’s wealth at the time — financial, commercial and property holdings were all included in this assessment.

‘In an attempt to try to circumvent this payment, your father transferred everything in his name to you before he was sent to Azkaban. However, at appeal, the Wizengamot agreed with the Ministry that this should not be a bar to the money being paid and you, therefore, are liable to pay this sum on his behalf.

‘The letters sent by the Ministry will have communicated this to you and given you ample opportunity to furnish the payment as requested. As you did not reply within the required timeframe, an order was granted allowing the money to be recovered from your account held at Gringotts Wizarding Bank, but this was declined as there were insufficient funds available in your vault. I understand that the Ministry sent you several letters regarding this, too.

‘As you still refused to contact the Ministry on this issue, it has been passed to me to deal with. I have been instructed to make a complete inventory of everything at Malfoy Manor with a view to compulsory seizure for resale of a number of goods equivalent to the value of the sum owed, and I have the full backing of both the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot in this endeavour.’

Feeling somewhat sorry for the blond man, Hermione finished, ‘I’m sorry it’s come to this, Draco, but unfortunately, you shouldn’t have ignored the letters sent by the Ministry. The only thing I can suggest is that I complete my inventory, preferably with your help, and then you can tell me if there is anything, in particular, you don’t wish to lose. It will obviously depend on the value of the goods as I need to ensure that the Ministry receives the full amount it is owed, but I am willing to try to work with you wherever possible to ensure you don’t lose something that has particular sentimental value for you. It’s the best I can do, I’m afraid.’

There was a deep, ringing silence for several long and uncomfortable minutes as Draco continued to stare at Hermione. Then he asked, ‘What if I say no?’

Hermione considered what she was going to say, knowing that the answer wasn’t very positive.

‘If you refuse to pay what your father owes, the Ministry will petition to have you sent to Azkaban and will then seize Malfoy Manor and its entire contents without any consideration of your preferences. Everything will be sold, all monies outstanding to the Ministry will be recovered along with any costs incurred, and anything left will be placed in your account at Gringotts for when you eventually leave prison. Please, Draco, work with me on this. I don’t know why you didn’t contact the Ministry when you received the letters, but it isn’t too late. I can help you if you let me.’

‘It sounds like I don’t really have much choice, doesn't it, Granger?’ Draco said sourly.

‘Why didn’t you contact the Ministry earlier?’ Hermione asked. ‘All this nastiness could have been avoided if you had just gone to them.’

‘It would have made no difference whatsoever,’ Draco retorted. ‘I have to pay the money regardless. The only thing it would have changed is the unwanted visitor turning up and demanding entry.’

‘If it wasn’t me it would be the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,’ Hermione warned coolly. ‘If you’d rather have them stomping all over your estate let me know and I’ll go back and tell them.’

Draco sighed deeply. ‘No. I don’t want anyone else coming here.’ He was quiet as he considered for a few seconds, looking at the clock on the wall, then he asked, ‘Would you like to stay to lunch, Hermione? I suppose we could use the time to discuss further what you need to do.’ He paused for a moment, then added, ‘I’m a vegetarian. Hopefully, that won’t put you off.’

Hermione remembered the delicious-looking vegetables she had seen earlier and smiled, feeling that there had been a subtle shift in their relationship with him now calling her by her first name rather than her surname.

‘Not at all. I love vegetables. Thank you for inviting me, Draco. That would be lovely.’

He stood. Sardonically he told her, ‘We’ll go to the dining room. The house-elves will have been excited at your arrival and the chance to entertain for once, so no doubt they’ll have pulled out all the stops.’

Hermione picked up her cloak, scarf and gloves and followed Draco back out into the hall. He took them from her and placed them on an old-fashioned coat rack set next to the stairs, then guided her into another room further down a corridor that led from the hall.

The massive dining table that Draco led her to was plainly but elegantly set for the two of them at the end nearest the door. There was pure white crockery with green and silver lines running around the rim of the charger plates, glistening silver cutlery, crisp white linen for the tablecloth and intricately folded napkins that had what Hermione assumed was the Malfoy family crest on them, and cut glass drinkware with a matching jug full of water and crystal decanters of wine. Hermione saw Draco give a fond smile at the trouble the elves had taken as he politely held out her chair for her.

She sat down, then looked around her interestedly. The dining room was large and classically decorated, although as with all the rooms Hermione had seen so far its beauty was fading and the chandeliers were dusty, attesting to the lack of use. Hermione could easily visualise the sort of grand dinner parties that must have been held there in the past. It had probably looked spectacular, especially with all the candles alight, and she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that Draco owned such a beautiful room and a touch disappointed that he was letting it slowly fall apart.

‘Would you like white or red wine?’ Draco asked once they were settled and he had poured them both a glass of water. ‘Either will go with the meal.’

As he spoke three house-elves appeared, all carrying trays of food which they offloaded onto the table. Draco watched them, inspecting the dishes as they were laid out. Once the elves were finished they all bowed at the same time, then disappeared with a pop.

Draco picked up a large serving spoon as he pulled a steaming dish towards him. He held out his hand for Hermione’s plate. She passed it to him and watched as he piled a decent amount of the food onto it before handing it back to her.

‘It’s a rather splendid aubergine parmigiana,’ he said, sounding satisfied as he put a large portion on his own plate, too. ‘Help yourself to the Greek salad and the bread. It’s all freshly made today, and all the vegetables are fresh from the garden.’

‘I saw the house-elves carrying some up earlier,’ Hermione said. ‘It all looks lovely.’

‘Sorry, I was pouring some wine, wasn’t I? What did you say you wanted, white or red?’

Hermione asked for a glass of white, which Draco poured, filling his own glass from the same decanter. She picked up the bowl of salad and added a healthy amount to her plate before plucking a piece of fresh warm bread from the basket.

‘That is really good,’ she announced, impressed, once she had taken a mouthful of the aubergine dish.

Draco smiled. ‘It’s one of my favourites so we have it quite a lot. You’ll also find a lot of quiche on the menu . . . and stuffed peppers. The house-elves love doing those for some reason. Fortunately, we have a decent stock of a variety of vegetables year-round with the greenhouses.’

‘You haven’t always been a vegetarian, have you?’ Hermione asked. She was trying to remember back to when they had been at school together, but to be honest, she hadn’t really taken much notice of what Draco had eaten.

‘No. It’s been about nine or ten years now,’ Draco said without expanding further.

Since Draco had become a recluse, Hermione realised. For a moment, she felt the urge to ask him what had made him change but decided this might be prying too deeply when she was currently only on the thinnest ice with him. Perhaps he would reveal more of his own accord in time.

But the meal continued in silence until Draco said, ‘So, tell me more about what you need to do, Hermione. You said something about an inventory.’

Hermione nodded. ‘As you don’t have the cash to pay off the debt we’ll need to sell some of your belongings, I’m afraid. I’m going to need to make an inventory of what you have, particularly those things you’ll consider parting with. Once that’s done I’ll need to get it officially valued, then from there we’ll make a decision about what the Ministry needs to take for sale.’

‘How long do you think that will take?’ Draco’s voice was quiet but not unfriendly.

‘How much stuff do you have?’ Hermione asked. ‘It’s a pretty large place so it’s going to take me a while, I think, although I will work as quickly as possible. The Ministry was hoping the whole assignment would be completed before Christmas. Obviously, I am aware that you don’t want to be disturbed so I shall try to be as invisible as possible, although any help you can give me would be greatly appreciated.’

‘When would you start?’ Draco asked.

‘At the earliest opportunity that is agreeable to you. As I said, we’re up against a challenging deadline so I’d prefer to make a start sooner rather than later. If you give me access to the grounds I can come and go without disturbing you.’

‘No.’ Draco’s face was set, his mouth a thin line of disapproval.

Hermione’s heart beat faster and a lurching feeling roiled around her stomach, making her feel suddenly queasy. She thought she had been doing so well but now Draco was going to refuse and she would have to return to the office and admit to Sylvia that she had failed.

‘I don’t want you coming and going at all hours, leaving my security and privacy compromised,’ Draco said tersely. ‘You can stay here while you’re doing the inventory. There’s plenty of space.’

Hermione had a sudden nauseating feeling of terror at the thought of being trapped in Malfoy Manor again. Even though she knew it was a stupid and irrational fear, a feeling like cold fingers crawled up and down her spine and she had to work hard not to squirm.

She closed her eyes for a moment, reorienting herself as she took a calming breath and forced herself to calm down. Draco wasn’t going to harm or kill her, and it wasn’t like she wouldn’t be able to leave once the inventory was completed.

‘What’s the matter? Scared?’ Draco’s voice was sneering now.

Hermione took a sip of her wine to steady herself.

‘Not at all. That would be extremely kind of you—’ _assuming you’re not going to house me in the cellar_ , she thought, remembering the last time she had been there. ‘I’ve been staying at the pub in Winterslow for the last couple of days, so I’ve got a bunch of stuff there I need to collect. And I ought to check in at work to let them know I’ll be staying with you for a while.’

‘So, shall we say the day after tomorrow, then?’ Draco asked.

‘Yes, that would be fine. What time should I arrive?’

‘Make it ten a.m. That should give the house-elves a chance to get breakfast out of the way and make a start on lunch.’ Draco dabbed his mouth with his napkin, then folded it and put it on his empty plate. He stood up, looking skittish as if he was eager to leave. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things I need to do. Click your fingers when you’ve finished eating and are ready to go and one of the house-elves will show you out. I’ll see you on Tuesday.’

Hermione watched in astonishment as he hurried out of the room, leaving her alone with the remnants of the meal. As much as she was enjoying the food she felt a little self-conscious about eating alone, particularly when she had initially been sharing the meal. She hurriedly finished the last of the aubergine on her plate and drained her wine, then called for a house-elf.

Ten minutes later she was back outside the grounds of Malfoy Manor, staring back through the closed gate at the house. Hermione was pretty sure that Draco wasn’t mentally impaired in any way, although he was clearly quite odd, but that was presumably down to a lack of human companionship. He had grown used to doing what he wanted when he wanted and had forgotten how to behave in company. It wasn’t something to judge him for.

Hermione Apparated back to the pub and went to pack her belongings, looking forward to going home. She was feeling quite optimistic now, too. Draco was going to allow her to complete her assignment, which would really piss off that old cow, Sylvia. Once she was packed and had checked to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind, Hermione went to say farewell and thank you to Mike for his warm hospitality.

An hour later she was at home in her flat in London, dropping her bag and putting on her washing before heading back out to the Burrow to see Harry and the Weasley family, knowing he, Ginny and the kids would have gone there for Sunday lunch. She was eager to update her friend on what she had achieved, even if only to stop him from worrying that she had been murdered, or worse, by Draco.

Despite the fact that she was going to have to stay at Malfoy Manor for an extended period of time, which still scared her somewhat if she was being honest, Hermione was now feeling more upbeat than she had since she had first been given the assignment. As amazing as it was to admit, she couldn’t wait to go into work tomorrow and update her colleagues and her boss on what had happened so far.

Once again, the old cow had failed, and Hermione was feeling quite smug about what she had achieved with Draco and couldn’t wait to see Daphne and Sylvia’s faces when she confirmed that he had not only opened his house to her but agreed to allow her to stay to complete the cataloguing of the estate and his belongings. She could already picture the sour look on both women’s faces.

It was going to make Monday morning that much sweeter for once.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione supposed she couldn’t really complain. Draco had given her a decent-sized and perfectly well-equipped bedroom even if it was a bit out of the way and, like everywhere else in the house, in need of redecoration. At least he hadn’t locked her in the cellar in protest at the work she had come to do or pushed her up into the attic with the bats.

Once she had left the Malfoy estate and Winterslow and returned to London she had begun to wonder whether Draco’s relatively easy agreement to allow her to her to return to the manor was just a clever ruse designed to assuage her and to get her off the grounds and away from him.

She half expected that when she returned, ready to do the cataloguing, she would find the place locked up tight again with no way to get past the magical barriers that warded the boundary of the estate. However, although Draco made it more than clear that he wasn’t particularly happy about her being there he had let her back into the grounds, furnished her with a room, and agreed to discuss the plan for the itemisation of the estate with her once lunch was over.

To that end, they shared a vegetable lasagne that was every bit as tasty as the aubergine parmigiana had been and then got down to business, beginning with Draco giving Hermione a grand tour of the house and gardens. She had been astonished by the size of it, seriously impressed at the array of different plants in the greenhouses and vegetable patch and a little bit jealous at seeing places like the ballroom and the library.

But wherever they went there were signs of decay, and Hermione couldn’t help but wonder why Draco was allowing the house to slowly fall apart around him. Clearly, money was an issue, but for some reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on she had a feeling that it was more than that; as if there was some big dark secret that Draco was keeping, just waiting to be discovered.

The fact that Draco was broke was strange, too. After all, the Ministry had calculated their fine based on Lucius Malfoy’s wealth, which, considering the amount he owed, must have been immense at the time. Yet somehow, within a decade the whole lot was gone and it was hard to see how when Draco never went anywhere or did anything. That was another mystery, and one Hermione hoped she might solve before she left.

In the first two weeks Hermione stayed at Malfoy Manor there had been several massive arguments between her and her ungracious host. These were always started by Draco who, obviously feeling under intense pressure at having to play host to an unwelcome intruder, bitched and moaned vociferously about how long it was taking Hermione to do her job.

Each time she pointed out that it would go much quicker if he would only help her occasionally, but this just elicited another outburst, quite often filled with expletives, about how he hadn’t wanted her to come in the first place and how wrong the Ministry of Magic was in their persecution of him, usually followed by him stalking out and disappearing for the rest of the day. 

That was one of the worst parts of being there, Hermione had decided: not having anyone else to talk to. She wondered how Draco had managed it for ten years. She was tempted to ask him about it but she didn’t feel their relationship had improved much in the time she had been there and didn’t think he would open up to her anyway — most of the time he wouldn’t even share a meal with her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There were still two parts of the estate that Hermione hadn’t yet seen, despite making it clear to Draco that she needed to inventory everything. One was the mausoleum where Draco’s mother was interred, but she completely understood why he didn’t want to share that with her when he already considered her to be intruding. Hermione was fairly certain there wasn’t going to be anything in there for her to inventory anyway, but she knew she would need to check before she left to be sure. Sylvia would be certain to pull her up on it if she left even one tiny corner of the estate unexplored. 

That brought her to the other area she hadn’t yet been to and she couldn’t help but wonder what was in there. It was a suite of rooms in the east wing of the manor that Draco refused point blank to show her and had even gone so far as to warn her away from going into. At first, Hermione didn’t mind too much because she already had more than enough work with the rest of the house to catalogue, but as time went on she found herself thinking about it more and more often.

A couple of times she tried to suggest to Draco that the rooms needed to be opened so she could get the itemising of their contents done, but each time Draco stormed away in a colossal temper after telling her in no uncertain terms that the place was out of bounds and he had no intention of allowing her entry.

Although Hermione had discovered many beautiful items throughout the house there was nothing to suggest that Draco had spent the money he had inherited in furnishing it, and it didn’t take long before she began to wonder what he was trying to hide.

Visions of rooms stuffed full of all sorts of goodies that would explain the empty vault in Gringotts began to fill her brain. As time went on the need to see the forbidden rooms started to overwhelm all other thoughts in Hermione’s mind and she found herself keeping watch on Draco, trying to make a pattern of his movements so she could work out a time to break in and see what he was hiding.

Her chance finally came about three weeks in, after she had spent several days in his library listing the various old and potentially quite valuable books that lined the walls of the magnificent room.

Draco disappeared shortly after lunch, which had been undertaken in complete silence as was often the case when they dined together. Hermione watched him leave as he headed out into the garden and down towards the greenhouses. Knowing he would be there for at least a couple of hours if previous visits were anything to go by, she waited for a few minutes in case he had just been going to collect something.

When she felt an appropriate amount of time had passed, Hermione hurried up the stairs and into the east wing, ignoring the various Malfoy family portraits that hung all along the walls of the corridor as if keeping a sentry guard.

Finally, she reached the ornate door that led to what treasures she was going to discover, Hermione had no idea. She pulled her wand from her pocket and checked to see if the door was warded. Amazingly it wasn’t, although she had no idea why Draco hadn’t done so when it was quite clearly so precious to him.

She grasped hold of the door handle, half expecting an alarm to go off or to be attacked by some nasty hex, but the house remained as silent as usual and she was still exactly the same. Slowly, and holding her breath, Hermione turned the handle, pushed the door open, and entered the room.

Hermione had walked into the most beautifully decorated space she had ever seen; unlike the rest of the house there was no trace of deterioration here. The lounge area was filled with sumptuous red velvet sofas with gold gilding and the curtains at the window also picked up the red and gold of the furniture. A massive mirror above the intricately carved fireplace was housed in a gold rococo frame; the wallpaper was expensive and was offset perfectly by the thick, luxurious red carpet on the floor.

Staring around her in astonishment, Hermione took in the ostentatious furnishings as she made her way slowly through the sitting room and into the large bedroom that awaited beyond. This room, too, was enough to take her breath away, the sumptuousness of the fabrics recreated with even more grandeur in this fantastic boudoir.

For a moment, Hermione thought she understood where all the money had gone — the decoration of these two rooms alone would have cost a small fortune. She soon discovered that the en suite bathroom fitted perfectly into the other décor, as did the room that was dedicated entirely to the storage of the most fabulous array of dresses, shoes, hats, cloaks and jewellery cases that would easily rival those of minor members of the Muggle royal family.

But although the rooms were opulent and a great deal of money had clearly been spent on them, it didn’t take Hermione long to realise that it wasn’t recent expenditure. Draco hadn’t been wasting the Malfoy family fortune on creating a wonderful palace. It had already been here: the private space of the woman who had made her home here so many years before.

These were the rooms of Draco’s mother, Narcissa Malfoy; the clothes, jewellery and even her hair brushes, makeup and perfumes were just as they had been before her final days of life. Draco had kept the rooms intact as a shrine to his mother — although how they had managed to retain the vividness and life that the rest of the house now lacked, Hermione had no idea.

She knew she was intruding upon the life of a woman long dead, her rooms defining a facet of her personality that few people outside the family would ever have known or guessed at. But she was also intruding on Draco’s grief, a deep and tragic thing given tangible form by his enshrining of the room.          

Part of her desperately wanted to linger in these magnificent rooms and examine everything — to gaze upon those exuberant dresses with their matching accessories and feel the sensual silks, satins and velvets with their intricate embroidery, beading and lace; to study and appreciate the impeccable jewels, some of which were clearly family heirlooms, and others surely bought by Lucius Malfoy for his beautiful and beloved wife. She felt the urge to caress the curtains and even the wallpaper, to let herself sink into the luxury and imagine what it would be like to spend every day of your life considering this opulence a normal way to live.

Hermione was so entranced by the splendour of her surroundings that she completely lost track not only of time but of what was going on around her and was, therefore, totally unprepared and felt instantly guilty when Draco swept through the door like a raging whirlwind, fury etched deeply upon his pinched face when he spotted Hermione, who was at that moment studying a silver grooming set that was undoubtedly a Black family heirloom.

Before she even had time to say anything in her defence, Draco roughly grabbed hold of her arm, gripping her tightly and painfully. She dropped the mirror and brush back onto the dressing table and he dragged her from the bedroom and through the sitting room, his anger giving him a strength she would never have suspected from someone so scrawny.

Even as she uttered her sincerest apologies, mortified now at what she had done, already understanding how disrespectful her actions had been, Draco frog-marched her along the corridor and down the stairs, stopping on the landing to push her towards the stairs to her own quarters located in the opposite wing.

‘Get your stuff and get out now,’ he barked, the ice in his voice so glacial it made Hermione wince.

‘But I haven’t finished the itemising yet,’ Hermione protested.

Draco scowled fiercely. ‘I don’t care where you are with your bloody job. I told you quite categorically that you were not to go anywhere near those rooms and yet you defied me; you quite deliberately flouted my rules, Hermione. I will not have it. You will pack and leave immediately. And don’t bother coming back because I won’t let you in.’

‘I am so sorry, Draco. I honestly didn’t—’

Hermione stopped, knowing that whatever she had been about to say was a lie. She _had_ purposely set out to investigate the room knowing that Draco didn’t want her to go in there and she had no good excuse for doing so beyond the fact that she needed to know what was in there. She had betrayed his trust in her and she deserved the punishment he was intent on issuing.

Her voice dropped, full of remorse and shame. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll leave straight away.’

Hermione felt sick as she walked up the stairs towards the corridor in which her room was located, knowing that Draco was watching her go. It felt like his anger and dislike were boring a hole into her back between her shoulder blades. She deserved it, she knew, but at the same time, it felt worse than anything she could ever have imagined.

What made it worse was that over the last couple of days she had been sure that the disdain and hatred had been thawing between them. Draco had seemed to be on the verge of opening up to her, on some level at least. He hadn’t admitted that he enjoyed her company or was grateful she was there, but she had got the feeling that he felt that way and had been sure that as things continued to ease between them there might even be a chance for friendship of a sort.

It was particularly galling because as Hermione had finally settled in, the recurring nightmares about her previous incarceration at the manor, which had been so  hideous and realistic to begin with, making her wake every night terrified and in a cold sweat, had disappeared in the last week or so and she had begun to feel more comfortable being there.

She had learnt her way around the massive house and its grounds and had actually been enjoying her work far more than she had expected to, especially when she discovered delightfully unexpected treasures like some of the books in the library or a rather fine statue in a corner of the garden.

Now she had to leave — and in disgrace, too. She would have to return to work and admit to Sylvia that she had been thrown out of Malfoy Manor without completing her task. She already knew the items she had so far managed to get catalogued would never cover the amount Draco owed.

Why hadn’t she at least had the sense to complete the inventory before she started snooping around the forbidden areas of the manor? Tears welled in her eyes as she hurried to her room, humiliation overwhelming her. She didn’t want Draco to see her cry; it was bad enough that he knew how upset she was.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hermione swept around her room, clearing everything as quickly as she could, not even trying to staunch the tears as she worked. Thanks to her rampant inquisitiveness she had ruined everything. She would fail in her task; Sylvia would get the opportunity she so desperately craved to sack her; and because of her behaviour, Hermione didn’t feel able to put up a fight against it. Her long and, so far, distinguished career in the Ministry of Magic, which she had worked so hard to achieve, would be over in days with nothing to show for it but disgrace and a lingering sense of embarrassment at having acted so badly.

Of course, Draco could solve all his money problems, including the debt owed to the Ministry, by selling the jewellery in his mother’s room. Hermione was fairly certain that several of the finer pieces would more than cover what was owed without him needing to liquidate the whole collection. But she also knew Draco would never get rid of anything in those rooms so she wasn’t even going to bother suggesting it.

She knew she ought to tell the Ministry of the existence of the rooms and their contents. Then again, if she hadn’t defied Draco’s wishes she would have known nothing about the contents. Keeping quiet about them was the least she could do under the circumstances.

Not that it would make any difference in the long run as the Ministry would eventually send in others to finish the job she had started. They would arrest and remove Draco if he tried to oppose them, and then they would take the beautiful rooms apart, not caring about their history or their sentimental value. The only thing left to Draco of his mother would be obliterated forever and Hermione had a horrible feeling that it would destroy him.

Although quite clearly emotionally fragile, he was far nicer than she had always remembered him being and to her surprise, she had found herself having quite warm feelings towards him since the arguing had died down. 

Draco was intelligent and had a decent sense of humour when he was in the mood, and despite having locked himself away for a decade he was an interesting conversationalist. As Hermione put the last of her belongings in her bag she realised she would miss him much more than she would have expected to be the case.          

The tears were back and Hermione lay down on her bed, determined to relieve herself of them before she left the room. She would not cry when she left the manor; she wouldn’t give Draco the satisfaction of knowing how much she had enjoyed being there or how much he had upset her when he sent her away.

Before long there was a knock on the door. At first, Hermione ignored it. It was unlikely to be Draco. It was probably just a house-elf relaying the message that she was taking too long to leave. She didn’t care. She was still too miserable and on the verge of tears to leave just yet. The thought of going made her well up again and the idea of having to return to the Ministry of Magic made her want to curl up into a small ball and sob.

The knock sounded again, louder this time. Sighing, Hermione left the bed, wiped her eyes, and prepared to repel the insistent visitor with an excuse as to why she needed more time. Opening the door, she revealed the same old house-elf she had spoken to when she had been stuck outside the gate. Its features were grave and there was an anxiety about it that was almost electric. It wrung its hands wretchedly as it stared up at her.

‘You must not be leaving, Miss,’ the house-elf said.

Hermione stared at it in astonishment. That wasn’t what she had been expecting at all.

Before she could respond, the elf added, ‘You is needing to stay, Miss.’ It swallowed as if trying to force itself to speak then continued, ‘My poor Master is needing help so you must stay — you must help him.’

Hermione studied the elf, trying to work out how it could talk to her like this without feeling it was betraying its master. From everything she knew of long indentured house-elves, it would normally be attempting to punish itself by now, yet it seemed almost calm, despite clearly being scared.

‘He told me to leave,’ she explained. ‘I can’t stay when he doesn’t want me here. Anyway, he hurt my arm and he was rude so there’s no reason why I should want to stay. It’s not exactly a fun experience living here, is it?’

The house-elf became more anxious. ‘You must stay,’ it insisted. ‘Master needs you to help him.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I don’t know what Draco needs but I can assure you that whatever it is, I am not the one to provide it. He made it quite clear how he feels about me so I won’t waste any more time here.’

‘Will Miss stay if Master apologises?’ the house-elf asked desperately.

Hermione gave a soft snort of derision. ‘He’s not going to apologise, and he doesn’t really need to. I was the one in the wrong.’    

‘But if he will apologise, then Miss will stay?’ the elf asked hopefully.

Hermione considered the question. She had no idea what the house-elf was up to and she didn’t believe for one minute that Draco would apologise to her for something that was essentially her fault. Having said that, it would definitely be better for her if she could stay and finish her work rather than having to go back to the office and admit defeat.

But she had no idea what the house-elf expected her to do to help Draco; unless it was to help him sort out his finances and get Malfoy Manor back into some fit state. However, that really wasn’t something she could assist with without knowing about his financial history and where all the money had gone, apart from getting the cataloguing done so he could see where he could claw back some money.

She realised the house-elf was still staring at her, that hopeful expression making it look like an ugly little puppy.

Hermione sighed. ‘Okay. If Draco agrees I can stay then I will stay, but I’m not willing to tolerate the rudeness and arguing I’ve had to live with for the last few weeks. It’s not fair to make me suffer that when I’m only trying to do my job.’

‘You will join the Master for dinner?’ the house-elf asked.

Hermione nodded. ‘Yes. _If_ he agrees.’

‘He will agree,’ the house-elf assured her, sounding pleased.

It turned away as if to leave, then turned back. Hermione saw that it had tears in its eyes.

‘Thank you,’ it whispered, then hurried away before Hermione had a chance to say anything else.

She closed the door and returned to sit on the bed, feeling confused and still not at all sure that Draco was going to allow her to stay.   

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner was an extremely uncomfortable affair, and as she and Draco sat there in stony silence Hermione began to wonder whether she should have left Malfoy Manor after all. She had been a little wary of joining him in the first place, knowing what she had done but had eventually made her way downstairs, arriving just a couple of minutes before she knew the food was due to be served.

Draco scowled at Hermione as she entered the room but he poured her a glass of wine as she took her place at the table. She poured herself some water, her mouth feeling dry as her stomach roiled, a tight feeling making her breathless. She knew she needed to apologise but Draco’s expression quelled her courage. Instead, she helped herself to the good food the house-elves piled upon the table and ate in silence, waiting for an opportunity to speak without causing more offence.

After the main course had been cleared away and dessert was served, Hermione glanced at Draco once more, trying to assess whether he had relaxed enough for her to be able to speak without him biting her head off. He looked back, the scowl finally disappearing from his face.

‘Hermione, I apologise for losing my temper with you,’ Draco said, his voice quiet.

She shook her head. ‘No, Draco. It’s me who should be apologising to you. You gave me a direct request and I ignored it, which was completely wrong of me. You were right to be angry with me . . . and I’m extremely grateful that you’re willing to give me a second chance, to let me stay on and complete my work.’

Reluctantly, Draco said, ‘I realised that once you told the Ministry about the rooms they would probably tear them apart to get their money. I’d much rather you finished cataloguing the rest of the house instead. Hopefully, there will be enough that they won’t need to be touched.’

‘I promise I’ll get it done as soon as possible and get out of your hair,’ Hermione assured him. ‘I really am sorry about going into those rooms but I’m afraid my curiosity got the better of me — and once I was in there they were just so beautiful that I completely lost track of time.’

‘The rooms belonged to my mother. She died shortly after the war,’ Draco told her, sounding maudlin.

‘I figured that was the case when I saw the clothes and jewellery,’ Hermione said. ‘She had remarkable taste.’

‘She was an extraordinary woman,’ Draco asserted.

‘I’m sure she was.’

‘Rather than risk you breaking in again I’ll take you up there and show you around properly once we’ve finished eating.’

‘You don’t have to,’ Hermione said.

‘I don’t want you breaking in again. I don’t want—’ He broke off and frowned as if he had said too much.

‘Thank you. I would love the chance to see the wonderful décor again,’ Hermione admitted.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Once dinner was over, Hermione followed Draco to his mother’s rooms. They were every bit as beautiful as she had thought earlier, but being with Draco and able to look around in more detail without fear of getting into trouble gave her the opportunity to admire and enjoy the rooms and their contents in a way she hadn’t been able to do earlier.

She wandered into Narcissa’s bedroom and through to the wardrobe room, eager to check out the clothes and accessories again, spending much time admiring the jewellery that was every bit as expensive as she had thought from the quick glance she had given it previously.

Hermione marvelled at the quantity of outfits stored on the racks, the considerable array of magnificent and expensive lingerie that filled drawer after drawer, and the gloves, scarves and other accessories that coordinated so beautifully with everything else. It was all so elegant, and Hermione wished she could one day own just one outfit even half so expensive and well made.

Eventually, she returned to the sitting room to find Draco resting on one of the sofas, waiting for her to finish looking around. Before she even reached him, Hermione realised something was wrong. As she moved closer she could tell he was crying, seemingly overwhelmed by memories of his mother as he waited for her. For a moment, Hermione wasn’t sure what to do, knowing that Draco was likely to be embarrassed at her catching him like this.

She cleared her throat loudly to warn him she was in the room, then made her way over to the sofa and sat down beside him. Draco rapidly wiped his eyes and coughed awkwardly.

‘You miss your mother a lot still, don’t you?’ Hermione said quietly.

Draco nodded but he didn’t reply.

Hermione sighed, her own expression turning morose. ‘I know exactly how you feel, Draco. My mother died almost twelve years ago and I still miss her terribly. There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t think about her.’   

Draco stared at her in astonishment at her revelation. Hurriedly, he thought back to the period she was talking about and realised it had happened during the war.

Anxiously he asked, ‘She wasn’t killed during the war, was she? I mean, the Death Eaters didn’t—’

Hermione shook her head and gave a small, sad smile. ‘No. They didn’t have a chance. She died of cancer. It was extremely aggressive and we only found out how bad it was less than three months before she died. We didn’t even know there was anything wrong with her. She just felt tired all the time, she was lethargic and had no energy, so she went for a standard check-up with the doctor. He sent her to the hospital for a series of tests and that’s when we discovered she was riddled with cancer. It had got into her bones, even her organs. Within weeks of getting the results she was rushed into hospital — her kidneys had failed. She was kept on machines for a few months but there was no way she was going to get any better.

‘Eventually, Dad made the decision to let her go. He was so upset, and still in danger from the Death Eaters although he had no idea that was the case, so I Obliviated him. I gave him a whole new life and sent him off to Australia so he would be safe and happy. I went with Harry and Ron to help in the search for the Horcruxes and eventually ended up here.’

Hermione only realised she was crying when Draco wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to him, a look of sympathy on his face so deep it had erased his own sorrow. For several long minutes she sobbed on his shoulder, letting out all the grief she had kept bottled up inside herself for so long, both for her mother and her father. Draco cried with her, the two of them supporting each other.

‘I am so sorry about what my aunt did to you, Hermione,’ Draco said, his voice thick as they finally released each other when the crying had ceased.

Hermione shrugged. ‘It was war and there was nothing you could have done to stop her. I know that Draco, and I don’t blame you for it.’

‘It must have been extremely hard for you, though, going off with Potter after everything that had just happened to you.’

‘I didn’t have any choice,’ Hermione told him honestly. ‘My mother was gone; being upset about it wasn’t going to bring her back. I had to send my father away because it was the safest and kindest thing to do for him. He’s got a whole new life out there, a new family and everything. I couldn’t take that away from him now and give him back the pain that was crippling him. I love him and I always will, but he’s much better off in his current life than in his old one.’

‘But where does that leave you? You’re alone with no support. It’s as if you lost both parents,’ Draco said.

‘You lost both of yours, too,’ Hermione pointed out.

Draco growled darkly, ‘Not really. Unfortunately, my father is still rather too much around for my liking. He may be locked away in Azkaban but he’s managed to leave his mark on my life anyway — and now it seems he’s intent on completely ruining it.’

Hermione frowned. ‘You mean this fine you have to pay on his behalf?’

Draco paused for a moment, then nodded morosely.

‘I don’t mean to pry, but where has all your money gone?’ Hermione asked gently. She was feeling closer to Draco than she had ever done and was certain that he wouldn’t take the question the wrong way.

But Draco’s expression turned to fear for a moment before it disappeared to be replaced by the scowl.

‘I can’t talk about it,’ he snapped.

Hermione stared at him in surprise, then raised her hands in supplication. ‘I’m sorry. As I said, I wasn’t prying . . . but it was so much money.’

Draco stood up, the scowl still on his face. ‘I’m not talking to you about it so you can stop asking, Hermione. It’s time to go.’

She stood and followed Draco to the door. She didn’t notice him looking around the room anxiously as she was berating herself for managing to upset him again without even meaning to.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said again.

‘Please don’t go in there anymore,’ Draco requested tersely. ‘You’ve seen what you need to see so now you can forget all about it.’ He started to walk down the corridor back towards the stairs. Hermione watched him for a moment before following. ‘I’ll show you the mausoleum on the twelfth — my mother’s birthday — then you’ll have seen it all.’

‘Thank you,’ Hermione said, not sure what had happened to ruin things between them again. Obviously, it had been her question about the money, but it hadn’t seemed that bad a question to ask under the circumstances.

‘I’ve got things to do. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Draco said curtly once they reached the landing.

Hermione walked towards her room, certain that Draco had turned back and returned to his mother’s room, presumably to grieve some more on his own. Unhappy herself now that she had been reminded of her parents, Hermione threw herself onto her bed, the tears once again falling as she remembered and mourned them.  

 

 

* * *

 

 

It seemed that Draco’s bad mood had gone by breakfast the following morning. Hermione was determined to say nothing he could take exception to, deciding that the usual silence was probably the best way to go. She was surprised, therefore, when he offered to help her with the itemising and even roped in some of the house-elves to assist.

At first, she suspected it was because he was eager to be rid of her, but as they worked together day after day, moving methodically through the estate, things became much easier between them. She was careful not to make any further enquiries into his financial troubles, aware that this would only cause new problems between them, and also tried to steer clear of anything else that might cause an argument.

Hermione was sure Draco was enjoying her company as much as she enjoyed his, and she had seen changes in him in the time they had spent together. The gaunt look was almost gone, as was the colourless pallor, and he no longer had such dark rings around his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for years. He was still too thin, but the handsome Draco she remembered from school was definitely reappearing as time went on, and she was pleased to see him.

If she was honest, Hermione wasn’t so happy that their time together would soon be coming to an end. Most of the inventory had now been taken, and once she saw the mausoleum on Narcissa’s birthday there would be no good reason for her to stay any longer. In fact, she would need to return to London to report to Sylvia and begin the process of pricing up the artefacts she had identified for sale.

It was weird, but now she had been here for a while the house no longer seemed quite as decrepit as it had first appeared to her, and despite being the middle of winter the garden had begun to bloom in places. It was almost as if the house was coming back to life the longer she stayed, but that was crazy. It was obviously just a fluke that she had arrived during a period of growth and she had become so used to the house decoration that she didn’t really notice its many flaws so much.

Hermione had the urge to visit Narcissa’s rooms, desperate to see those beautiful outfits and the stunning jewellery one more time before she left, but her determination not to upset Draco again stopped her from going in there. It was so hard, though. The room had a warm and calming quality to it that could be found nowhere else in Malfoy Manor, and as the days grew ever shorter and her time remaining slipped away, Hermione found the stress she so often suffered from at work returning and the urge to disappear somewhere peaceful for a while rising. Every time she thought of the haven Narcissa had created she fervently wished to be there.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By lunchtime on the twelfth Draco was depressed and withdrawn, something Hermione had expected but wasn’t quite sure how to deal with. She knew she had to see the mausoleum before she left so she could confirm to the Ministry of Magic that she had covered every inch of the Malfoy Manor estate, but she got the feeling he was now regretting telling her she could join him in his visit to his mother today.

Hermione waited quietly while they had lunch, trying to ignore the haunted, anxious expression that had returned to his face, but eventually, she felt she had to say something, knowing that Draco wouldn’t.

‘I know you said I could go with you today, Draco, but I think maybe I would be intruding. I know it’s an important day and I don’t want to ruin it for you because you’re wishing I wasn’t going. I honestly don’t mind, and I completely understand your need to be alone. I respect that and don’t mind waiting until another time that would be less emotional for you.’

Draco stared at her for over a minute as if weighing up what she had just suggested. For a few seconds an expression of relief crossed his face, and Hermione was certain he was going to take her up on her offer, but then the anxiety was back and a deep frown line appeared on his forehead as he obviously considered something else.

‘Look, I understand, honestly, I do,’ Hermione said again, keeping her voice as placating as she could manage.

‘No. It has to be today,’ Draco replied, although he didn’t sound or look happy about it.    

‘I really don’t want to intrude . . . unless you’re _that_ desperate to get rid of me,’ Hermione said.

Draco blinked, looking surprised as if he didn’t understand her comment.

‘Get rid of you?’ he echoed.

Hermione shrugged. ‘Everywhere else has been itemised—’ _except your mother’s rooms_ , she silently added in her mind. ‘The mausoleum is the last place I need to see. Once I’ve confirmed that there’s nothing there to add to the inventory it will be time for me to leave. I’ll need to report back to work and start confirming the valuation of the goods we’ve identified for sale.’ She ignored the glare Draco gave her at her comment about inventorying the mausoleum. ‘As I said, if you’re that desperate to get rid of me then sure, I’ll come with you today. Otherwise, I can wait. I can let you do whatever you need to do on your own.’

Draco looked pained. ‘It’s not about whether I want you to leave or not — and no, I’m not going to explain — but if you want to see the mausoleum you’ll have to come with me today.’

‘Okay, if that’s what you want,’ Hermione agreed.

There was silence for quite some time and Hermione debated whether to leave the table.

‘I don’t want you to leave, Hermione,’ Draco suddenly announced.

‘I don’t have any choice, I’m afraid,’ Hermione told him. ‘If we want to get your debt sorted by Christmas I need to get back to work, to write my report and arrange the valuations.’

‘Sod the blasted debt,’ Draco growled, then he asked, ‘Can’t you do that from here?’

Hermione considered the request, her heart beating rapidly. She hadn’t expected Draco to not want her to leave, and for a moment the worry that he would coerce her to stay in Malfoy Manor; might even use force or torture to do so, made her feel a little faint. Perhaps she should agree just to keep the peace and then creep out when he wasn’t looking . . . but that wasn’t fair to Draco. She had to give him more credit than just assuming he was a clone of his rotten family. There was more to him than that, she knew there was.

‘I need to check in with my boss, and believe me, you don’t want her coming here. She’s a right cow at the best of times and once she gets her foot in the door you won’t be able to get rid of her. Those rooms of your mother’s would be stripped before you even had a chance to complain,’ Hermione warned.

She grinned at Draco, who had himself grinned when Hermione called her boss a cow.

‘She’s not that bad, surely,’ Draco said.

Hermione snorted grimly. ‘You think I’m joking, but I’m not. She’s tried everything she can think of to get rid of me, including giving me this assignment when she knew damn well that the last place on earth I would voluntarily come was Malfoy Manor because of what happened here. If I don’t go back soon she’ll probably announce that I’ve deserted my post or something, and I’ll lose my job. It’s bad enough that I have to suffer her as my boss and have to share the office with Daphne Greengrass, without ending up unemployed because I’m away from the office for too long.’

‘Is _that_ where old Greengrass ended up?’ Draco said. ‘I bet she’s crap, isn’t she? She was always pretty poor at school; always copying from the other girls.’

Hermione gave a small sigh. For a moment, she felt a slight twinge of guilt about talking about a colleague, especially in a less than stellar capacity, but then she had to be honest.

‘She’s not the greatest. She makes a lot of mistakes which she only gets away with because my boss is so steadfast in her quest to get rid of me and overlooks the stuff Daphne does. Unfortunately, for the old cow I am excellent at my job, and regardless of whatever crap she throws my way I always manage to complete it somehow.

‘Because of that her department doesn’t get pulled up, so she doesn’t get into trouble and need to throw someone — and by that, I mean Daphne — to the wolves. This assignment is the only one she’s ever given me that I nearly failed to complete, but fortunately, you gave me a second chance. It was only given to me in the first place because my boss didn’t think you would even talk to me, let alone let me in to do my job. And, of course, she thought the other issue might be a problem, too.’

Draco was silent again and this time Hermione thought it really was time to leave the table. She wanted to get her notes in order and needed to collect a notebook and quill in case there was anything to list once she got to the mausoleum — unlikely, but it always paid to be prepared.

‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she said, and she dropped her napkin on her plate and rose to leave. ‘What time do you want to go to the mausoleum?’

Draco studied her appraisingly for a moment. ‘I usually go down there about three o’clock. It will be dark at four today.’

‘Shall I meet you in the entrance hall just before three, then?’ Hermione asked.

Draco nodded. Hermione gave him a small wave of farewell before leaving the dining room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

At five to three Hermione was waiting in the entrance hall, wrapped up in her cloak and scarf and gloves. It had been chilly all day; the ice that had formed overnight hadn’t had a chance to thaw as the temperature hadn’t got much above freezing. Now, with twilight coming, the temperature was plunging, heading into minus figures, and she was certain the mausoleum wasn’t going to be the warmest place to be.

Draco, too, was wrapped up, his face sombre and his pale eyes dull and pained. He was carrying a huge bouquet of the most beautiful flowers, presumably from his greenhouse. He led Hermione from the house and down the garden stairs. They trekked across the lawn, leaving footprints on the ice as they went, the frosty grass crackling beneath their feet.

Hermione took a sharp breath as a gelid wind blew right across the garden, whistling as it went. The cold seeped through the wool of her cloak, making her shiver.

‘It’s definitely getting colder,’ Draco observed. ‘At least the mausoleum is out of the wind.’

Hermione was too cold to speak so she just nodded.

‘I was thinking: Christmas is only a few weeks away now,’ Draco said insouciantly as they walked. ‘I thought you could stay here this weekend and go back to work on Monday morning. It’s not too far to Apparate — or you could use the Floo in the study. Then, after you’ve written your report and everything you could come back — you could spend Christmas here . . . with me.’

‘Why do you want me to come back?’ Hermione asked curiously.

‘Because I enjoy your company,’ Draco admitted. ‘You’re completely different from how I had always imagined you and I like having you around . . . I like you.’ His voice dropped as he continued, ‘I’ve been alone for so long and—’ He turned to look at her mournfully. ‘You’re probably already busy, aren’t you?’

Hermione put her arm through his and smiled, her heart racing although she wasn’t entirely sure why.

‘As it happens, I haven’t got anything planned for Christmas,’ she lied. ‘Of course I’ll come and stay if you want me to.’

‘You will?’ Draco looked pleased with her response.

‘I will. But I need to get your debt sorted out first,’ Hermione warned.

‘Thank you, Hermione,’ Draco said, sounding grateful.

Hermione smiled again. ‘Thank you for inviting me, Draco.’


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione had been pretty much dreading her return to the office after her extended stay at Malfoy Manor. While things had been a bit shaky at times between her and Draco, they had rubbed along well enough for most of it and she was actually a little sad to be leaving the beautiful old house and its still magnificent gardens — and, if she was honest, even the blond man who she now considered a friend. 

True, she was looking forward to catching up with Harry at some point, and Ben was always fun. But the thought of snide Daphne and her bitchy comments and, no doubt, a forthcoming battle with the old cow, Sylvia, didn’t do anything to make Monday morning any more palatable.

Draco tried to boost her spirits by insisting she have breakfast with him before she went, and it was with a massive bone-crushing hug from him that she finally took her leave and Flooed to the Ministry of Magic.

Her only consolation was that it would be less than two weeks before she was back with him again, and she hoped she might then be able to persuade Draco to allow her to return to Narcissa’s rooms. She hoped that by that time his debt would have been repaid and he would feel safer allowing her access to the precious items that lay within knowing there was no longer a chance that they would be confiscated by the Ministry of Magic.

She quickly nipped outside to one of the nearby Muggle cafes to pick up some decent coffee as she suspected she was going to need it, buying extras to treat her colleagues, even Daphne, too as she was feeling generous and relatively optimistic with yet another win under her belt.

The good feeling died almost as soon as she walked through the door of the office. Before she even made it inside she could feel the black cloud of despair that hung over the room, and when she reached her desk she could see Ben’s unhappy face staring at her. A look towards the other desks found Daphne, crying. The desk opposite her was still empty. Hermione had no idea where Jeremy, the office’s other occupant, had got to, but it didn’t look like he was in.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked as she dished out the coffee to her colleagues, wondering if presenting Sylvia with the spare cup would put her up or down in her boss’ favour.

‘Thank Merlin you’re back,’ Ben said, the relief evident in his voice. ‘You have no idea just how dreadful it’s been here for the last few weeks.’

‘Why, what’s been going on?’ Hermione asked, feeling suddenly anxious. She looked again at Daphne, who was desperately trying but failing miserably to dry her eyes after the kindness Hermione had just shown with the coffee. ‘Where’s Jeremy? I thought he was due back off holiday the week before last.’

‘He was. He was back for two days and then _she_ got at him,’ Ben hissed. ‘He walked out, went to see a Healer and got himself signed off sick until after the Christmas holiday, at the earliest.’

Hermione shook her head, annoyed at what she was hearing. Although she had been inclined to leave her boss to build up enough rope to hang herself, she hadn’t meant for her work colleagues to suffer while she was doing it. Perhaps the time had come for her to talk to someone about Sylvia’s behaviour. It wouldn’t get rid of her but at least it would stop the worst of her bullying tactics.

‘It’s been really busy since you’ve been away,’ Ben explained quietly. ‘We’ve had so much to do, especially without Jeremy here, too. It’s been extremely stressful and unfortunately, Daphne made a mistake the same day he walked out, and then she made another on Friday.’

‘She’s sacked me,’ Daphne wailed, taking over the narrative. ‘She told me when I came in this morning. I’ve got until lunchtime to clear my desk and get out.’

‘What?’ Hermione was shocked. ‘What do you mean she’s sacked you? What did you do wrong?’

‘It wasn’t even anything major,’ Ben insisted. ‘On Friday, she forgot to check with the Wizengamot bods about a case that was supposed to be scheduled for that day because we were both running around all over the place trying to catch up with the work Jeremy had left. Of course, it was sod's law that it got sidelined and Sylvia was furious because Daphne hadn’t checked. The previous one was the misfiling of some papers that she needed urgently.’

‘She hasn’t got a clue what she’s doing,’ Hermione said, trying to rein in her anger. ‘Don’t worry, Daphne, I’ll have a word with her. She’ll reinstate you.’

‘She’s not very happy with you, either,’ Ben warned her.

Hermione shrugged. ‘So, what’s new? She’s never very happy with me. But she’s gone too far this time and I’m going to sort her out.’

She took a large mouthful of her coffee to fortify herself, decided to keep the remaining cup for herself, and stalked towards Sylvia’s office. Hermione knocked on the door, waited for exactly one minute, then opened it without waiting for a response and walked in.

The door closed behind her.

Ben and Daphne looked at the closed door anxiously. There was dead silence apart from Daphne sniffing, still trying to control her tears. Ben stared fixedly at the door, sipping his coffee.

Five minutes later Hermione emerged, looking even angrier than she when she had entered. She walked to her desk, picked up her coffee and took another swig, then dumped it back on the desk, spilling it as she did so.

‘Oh, bollocks,’ she announced, her temper spilling over into grumpiness.

‘What happened?’ Ben asked cautiously.

‘She’s a fucking idiot, that’s what happened,’ Hermione said as she pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and used it to clean up the spilt coffee. ‘I’ll be back shortly. Don’t you go anywhere, Daphne. I will get your job back for you.’

‘Why are you doing this for me?’ Daphne asked, sounding astonished.

Hermione straightened, looking fierce. ‘Because she hasn’t played fair, as usual. It would be different if she had pulled you up for previous mistakes and you’d been given all the relevant warnings, but getting pissy because she’s failed to get rid of me again isn’t a good enough excuse for her to sack _you_. You could challenge her yourself but that would take too long. This way will be quicker for everyone and it might make her think twice before she does something so rash again.’

‘It’ll just put you even further in her bad books,’ Ben pointed out.

‘Again, not much change there,’ Hermione retorted coldly. ‘See you shortly.’

She left the office and headed for the lift, debating who was going to be the best person to talk to. As Hermione waited for the lift to arrive she decided on Arthur Weasley. He was a sensible and fair-minded man and she was certain he knew the rules inside out. She stepped into the lift and pressed the correct floor.

Sylvia had definitely not been happy about Hermione stepping up to save Daphne from losing her job, but she was unable to give any good reasons why she had done it or show that the woman had been disciplined previously. They all knew it was just Sylvia’s temper that had caused her to sack Daphne, but she wasn’t prepared to admit her mistake, especially to Hermione, so Hermione had no choice but to go further up the chain. At that moment, she didn’t really care how her actions would sit with Sylvia, she just wanted to stop Daphne from losing her job. While it was true she had never liked the woman, that wasn’t enough to let a miscarriage of justice prevail.

She was pleased to discover that Arthur Weasley was in his office and wasn’t in a meeting. Within a few minutes she was sitting opposite him, explaining what had happened and outlining previous areas where Sylvia had crossed the line. Hermione mentioned her own problems with the woman in passing but underplayed them, firstly, because this current fight wasn’t about her, and secondly, because she didn’t want to give the impression that she was retaliating for her own rough treatment at her boss’ hands.

As Hermione expected, Arthur was dismayed to hear of the way Daphne had been treated and promised he would talk to Sylvia and remind her that she couldn’t just sack someone because she was annoyed with them. He returned with Hermione to her office, and after ten minutes with Sylvia he left, giving Hermione a knowing smile as he went.

It was a couple of minutes before Sylvia’s door opened and Daphne was summoned into her office, Sylvia’s voice sour and sharp as she barked her request that the ex-Slytherin woman join her. From there it was only another couple of minutes before Daphne emerged again, a smile breaking through the tears as she informed Hermione and Ben that Sylvia had changed her mind and decided to reinstate her.

Hermione sighed as she removed the lid of the second coffee, brushing away Daphne’s sincere thanks. She still had a lot of work to do to get Draco’s debt sorted out, including producing a report detailing what she had found of value at Malfoy Manor, and then she had to organise the formal valuation and removal of the goods. It could be done by Christmas as long as she didn’t have to take on too much of Jeremy’s work, but the sooner she got started the longer she had to play with.

She — and her colleagues, she suspected — were all pleased that Sylvia left them alone for the rest of the day. The haughty woman emerged from her office just before lunch and announced that she had a meeting to go to. Hermione quickly scanned their workload, ensuring that everything was covered and that Daphne was doing her job correctly — the last thing she needed was the hapless woman making another mistake — then she went to lunch too, meeting with Harry to discuss both the morning’s events and her time at Malfoy Manor.

On returning from lunch, Hermione discovered that Sylvia had sent a message to say she would be away from the office for the rest of the day, and quite probably the following day, too. Hermione settled down, knowing she could write her report in peace and ended the day in a considerably better mood than she had started it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

On Wednesday morning Hermione was called to Sylvia’s office to discuss the Malfoy assignment. Hermione gave her boss her report and verbally updated her on where things stood. But just when she was convinced everything was going smoothly for once, Sylvia dropped her bombshell and Hermione knew without a shadow of a doubt that the woman was punishing her for daring to get involved with Daphne’s dismissal.

‘So, you’ve wrapped the job up,’ Sylvia said briskly.

‘Not the whole assignment, no. The initial cataloguing is done and I’ve completed the report. Next, I have to confirm the valuation estimates and arrange with Draco Malfoy for the chosen items to be removed from Malfoy Manor. The first part should take a week to ten days to complete.

‘I will return to Malfoy Manor just before Christmas to oversee the packing of the relevant items, with a view to getting them picked up either between Christmas and the new year or just after the start of the new year, depending on how long it takes to pack and when Percy Weasley can schedule the transport. I know they’re short-staffed in there anyway, and over Christmas they really only have a skeleton crew.’

‘You will _not_ be returning to Malfoy Manor,’ Sylvia informed her. ‘I’m taking you off this assignment and moving you to something else.’

‘But you can’t do that,’ Hermione said in dismay. ‘I’m halfway through the case, and you want it completed by Christmas. How am I going to achieve that if you’re transferring me somewhere else?’

‘You won’t,’ Sylvia acknowledged a chilly smile on her face now. ‘You’ve done the grunt work and now someone else can get the glory for recovering the money Malfoy owes. You’re being moved to assist the Enforcement Patrol in an operation they’ve just started. As I understand it, it will keep you busy from now until sometime towards the end of February, including working all over Christmas and every weekend. I checked and you haven’t got any leave booked, so there’s no reason why you can’t start straight away.’

‘But I have to return to Malfoy Manor,’ Hermione insisted. ‘Draco won’t accept anyone else. I know he won’t because it took him ages to allow me in. Honestly, Sylvia, he’s a real recluse. I think I was the first person he had spoken to apart from his house-elves since 1998.’

‘Oh, Malfoy will cooperate if he knows what’s good for him,’ Sylvia said, her smile widening nastily. ‘If he doesn’t we’ll get the hit wizards in to take him down and he can join his father in Azkaban. It’ll be easier for us if we seize the whole lot and sell it off, anyway.’

‘You can’t do that,’ Hermione said, horrified at what was being suggested. ‘Draco has cooperated fully with me during the whole assignment and has agreed to the items chosen being taken by the Ministry, so you have no reason to confiscate all his property. It’s all there in the report. Please, Sylvia, let me finish the job I started and we can get this wrapped up without any hassle and without needing to get Magical Law Enforcement involved.’

‘You’re off the case so you can stop worrying about what’s going to happen to Malfoy and his property. If you’ve got any sense you’ll get yourself down to the Enforcement Patrol office as soon as possible and forget about anything going on in _this_ office,’ Sylvia sneered.

‘But I promised Draco I would go back,’ Hermione admitted.   

Sylvia gave a mocking laugh. ‘Well, you’re going to break your promise then.’ She watched Hermione for a moment then added slyly, ‘Of course, if you really don’t want to join the Enforcement Patrol’s operation you could always quit, Hermione. There is no job here for you any longer and if you don’t want to work there then it would appear your Ministry career is over.’

Hermione frowned anxiously. ‘But that can’t be right. With Jeremy out on sick leave, we’re short-staffed already. Losing me from the team is going to make it almost impossible to keep up with the work.’

‘Oh, I’m sure we’ll manage somehow. I’ve done an assessment and it proves you’re surplus to requirements.’ Sylvia lifted up a piece of parchment and waved it in Hermione’s face as she grinned almost maniacally.

‘So, what — are you saying I’m being transferred completely?’ Hermione asked, still stunned at what was happening.

‘Ah, no, not quite. I will still be your _boss_ so you will answer to me for anything you do, particularly where _discipline_ is involved, but I’ve seconded you to the Department of Magical Law so I don’t have to see your face every day.’ By now Sylvia’s expression was so smug, Hermione had the urge to slap her ugly face. ‘By the way, it’s all perfectly within the rules so there’s no point in you going crying to Arthur Weasley or any of your other _influential_ friends to help you. There’s nothing they can do to stop me. Your only choice is to move or leave.’

Hermione clenched her fists as she tried to calm herself.

Trying to keep her voice even, she said, ‘Okay. I accept the transfer as I don’t have any choice, but please, reconsider how you treat Draco Malfoy. He isn’t the criminal, his father was. He’s just a disturbed and upset young man trying to keep away from the world. I honestly believe if you go charging in there it could have tragic consequences.’

‘Fortunately, I don’t have to take your advice — in fact, I don’t have to listen to you at all any longer. Please leave now, Hermione, otherwise I will call security and get you removed.’

‘I can’t believe you can get away with doing this,’ Hermione said.

Sylvia laughed again. ‘I can and I will. Now go away and join your new team. This is your last chance.’

‘Please don’t hurt Draco. He doesn’t deserve it.’ Hermione already knew her parting shot would fall on deaf ears.

Sylvia just stared at her coolly.

Hermione sighed and shook her head, then stood and walked to the door.

‘One day someone’s going to sort you out,’ she said.

Sylvia gave Hermione a look that literally screamed her jubilation that she had finally bested her enemy. ‘But not you, I think, Hermione. You’ve lost. Now get out.’

Hermione slammed the door hard on her way out, trying to stem the urge to grab her wand and hex the old cow. She made her way back to her desk and sat down heavily, the reality of her situation just beginning to sink in.

‘What happened?’ Ben asked nervously, sensing trouble.

‘The old cow’s got her revenge on me for stopping her from getting rid of Daphne. She’s transferred me to a team in the Enforcement Patrol, some crappy operation that’s going to keep me busy all over Christmas and beyond. She’s refused to let me finish the Malfoy assignment and she’s threatening to send in hit wizards to storm the place and chuck Draco in prison and compulsorily seize Malfoy Manor if he refuses to cooperate.

‘All the work I spent weeks doing to get him to trust us will all be ruined because of her dislike of me. Poor Draco isn’t going to know what hit him, and he’s really not up to dealing with the outside world anymore.’

‘I’m so sorry, Hermione,’ Daphne said, sounding upset. ‘It’s all my fault. If you hadn’t stopped her from sacking me—’

‘It wouldn’t have mattered. She’s been planning this for a long time; I suspect this has always been her end game. She’s put me in a position where I have no choice but to move otherwise I’ll be resigning my post. There’s no place for me here now, however short-staffed we are, she’s seen to that. The worst bit is that even though I’m being transferred she’s still going to have overall responsibility for me. It’s a bloody nightmare.’

‘So, what are you going to do?’ Ben asked.

‘I don’t have any choice, do I? I have to take the new assignment. I need you to do me a favour, though.’

‘Anything, what do you need?’ Ben assured her.

‘I need you to keep an eye on what’s happening with Draco’s case. I will warn him I’ve been moved — he needs to know because he was expecting me to go back to Malfoy Manor for Christmas. I promised I’d help him with packing the sale items. But if the old cow is going to force her way in I want some notice so I can do something about it, or at least give him some warning.’

Ben looked less keen but he nodded his agreement.

‘I don’t want to get you in trouble, Ben, but this is really important,’ Hermione impressed upon him.

‘ _I’ll_ tell you, Hermione,’ Daphne said staunchly. ‘I owe you for what you did for me . . . and Draco used to be a friend and I don’t want anything bad to happen to him.’

Hermione smiled. ‘Thank you, Daphne. I really appreciate that and I’m sure Draco will, too. Now, I need to go. The old cow threatened to call security if I didn’t leave straight away.’

‘She can’t do that, can she?’ Ben asked, sounding worried.

Hermione shrugged. ‘Who knows? I’m not taking any chances; the bloody woman’s clearly unstable. My advice to you two is to keep your head down . . . and make sure you regularly check each other’s work, for Merlin’s sake. Don’t give her a chance to get rid of you.’

She stood and picked up her bag, collected her cloak from the stand by the door, and left the office, giving her ex-colleagues a small wave and an even smaller smile before she went.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione was feeling incredibly fed up. In the days since she had been moved to her new assignment with the Enforcement Patrol Team she had been unable to settle. It wasn’t that the work was dull although it certainly wasn’t yet of the same high calibre she was used to, but she knew it held potential for the future if she could manage to stick it out.

But she was worried about Draco, and more specifically what Sylvia was going to do to him. The truth was that she felt guilty, knowing it was her fault that the old cow was going to ruin Draco’s life without even batting an eyelid.

It had been with an extremely heavy heart that Hermione had sent him an owl immediately after leaving Ben and Daphne. Her message had contained an emotional, hurried and not very well thought out explanation of what was happening along with a warning that she wouldn’t be returning to Malfoy Manor for Christmas as she had promised, but that it was possible that others might turn up instead.

She told him about being moved to a new job which was going to keep her tied up for several months including working throughout the Christmas holidays, hence the reason she couldn’t return to him. But she was pretty sure Draco wasn’t going to understand why she was letting him down, particularly when there was no guarantee her plan to remove his debt would be followed now she had been taken off the case. To him, it would seem a double betrayal, especially if Sylvia was as heavy-handed as Hermione suspected she was going to be.

In the immediate aftermath of the move, Hermione ranted at great length to Harry about the unfairness of what Sylvia had done, not only to her but also to Daphne and Ben with the increased and completely unmanageable workload she had dumped on them with Jeremy’s continuing absence, and of course, about what the old cow was proposing to do to Draco, who was an innocent victim in all of this.

Although she refused point blank to involve Arthur Weasley again, already knowing it would do no good, Harry spoke to his father-in-law about it informally during Sunday lunch with the family at the Burrow. Unfortunately, after a short investigation by Arthur, they soon discovered that this time, at least, Sylvia had covered herself properly and there was nothing they could do to stop Hermione’s move. She really was stuck in her new role unless she applied for another post elsewhere or chose to leave the Ministry of Magic.

In the end, and with Hermione so obviously upset at what had happened, Harry suggested that she should talk to Kingsley about it as he would be able to overturn the decision. Hermione was certain this wasn’t the way to go. She felt bad calling in such an immense favour for what was, in reality, a relatively trivial matter.

She knew it was only her guilt about what was going to happen to Draco that made it such a big issue. At any other time she would be happy to escape the old cow’s clutches, especially for a long-term assignment with an active branch that might actually garner her the credit she deserved but had never received while working for Sylvia. 

Instead, she badgered Harry to involve himself in Draco’s case, refusing to accept his protestations that the Auror department would have no involvement in any raid on Malfoy Manor. Eventually, more to shut her up than because he thought he could do anything to help, Harry agreed to talk to his contacts among the hit wizards and explain the situation to them, with the suggestion that they talk to Hermione before they descended on Malfoy Manor.

Unlike Hermione, Harry wasn’t so sure that Draco was an innocent party. There was too much suspicion over the disappearance of his family’s fortune and the man’s sudden interest in becoming a recluse. But he was worried about his upset friend and knew she was feeling guilty that she had let Draco down in some unspecified way he was unable to understand. Unless he kept a close eye on her he suspected she was going to end up doing something stupid and would walk straight into the trap Sylvia had obviously set up for her. If that happened she would end up losing her job with no way for them to get her reinstated, Kingsley or no, and Harry was determined that wouldn’t happen — especially not because of bloody Draco Malfoy.

So far Harry’s interference hadn’t paid any dividends as no one had been to talk to Hermione about her report or about Malfoy Manor. She was hopeful that this meant no decision had yet been made, as she hadn’t received a warning from Ben or Daphne either. But waiting was so difficult, especially when she was convinced that the outcome wasn’t going to be a good one for Draco, and it just gave her guilt time to fester.

In addition, Hermione had been trying to ignore the fact that she actually felt deep personal disappointment that she wouldn’t be going back to Malfoy Manor nor spending Christmas in Draco’s company. Although she was trying to keep it hidden deep inside, refusing to acknowledge it, Hermione really liked Draco and she enjoyed being with him.

It was for that reason she had originally agreed to return, easily brushing aside the fact that she was expected to spend Christmas Day at the Burrow along with her friends and surrogate family, although the work aspect of the Malfoy assignment had given her a handy excuse to throw around.

Now she was due to be working across the whole of the festive period, including Christmas Day, thanks to Sylvia. Hermione wasn’t sure she was even going to make it to the Burrow for any part of the day although if she was honest, she wasn’t all that bothered about that when there was somewhere else she would rather be anyway.

Hermione knew her friends would be disappointed if she wasn’t there, but in her current mood she found it hard to care and suspected that the way she would feel on the day would make working the better option for her and also for everyone she knew.

As the days counted down towards Christmas, Hermione was unable to stop thinking about Draco. Her heart twinged with sorrow for the lonely man who would be all alone, apart from his house-elves, in that huge house.

By the time she awoke on Monday, 22 December, the alarm reminding her that she had another long day at work to face, Hermione knew she was going to do something that would probably end up with her losing her job, but she honestly found it hard to care.

Hermione wanted to spend Christmas with Draco Malfoy and she was going to do it, whatever the cost. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione knew that going to Malfoy Manor would be wrong in every way. Sylvia had told her to keep away, and if the old cow discovered that she had ignored her warnings she would no doubt sack her on the spot. She suspected that Sylvia was planning to raid the Malfoy estate on short notice, possibly during the holiday week as it would attract less attention, and if she was there when the hit wizards arrived she would be in all sorts of trouble.

Also, there was the small matter that she was supposed to be at work; was supposed to be in the office for the whole week regardless of the Bank Holidays, and her not turning up would no doubt be reported to Sylvia eventually.

However, Hermione was aware that her boss wasn’t very popular with the Enforcement Patrol Team because she had refused to completely transfer Hermione over to them, vindictively insisting that she retain managerial control over her, so it might be a few days before they got round to informing the old cow that her employee had gone AWOL.

Although she knew he would try to persuade her not to go, Hermione was aware that she had to tell Harry what she was doing. The last thing she needed was him and Ron raising the alarm because she had disappeared, seemingly without a trace. That would instantly alert Sylvia to what she was up to.

Despite that Hermione already knew he wasn’t going to like it, Harry was going to have to provide her with an alibi, for a few days at least. Even if she only got to spend Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Draco it would be better than not being with him at all.

Decided, Hermione left home and made her way into the office, stopping en route to ask Harry to meet her for lunch. By the time they met up, leaving the building to thread their way through the crowds of mainly foreign Muggle Christmas shoppers who had somehow found their way into Whitehall for a bit of sightseeing, she was steadfast in her resolve, whether Harry agreed to help or not.

‘I need you to cover for me, Harry,’ Hermione said without preamble once they had taken their place in a booth in a Muggle café. She picked up the menu and scanned it briefly before putting it back on the table.

Harry looked at her warily, putting his own menu on the table to indicate that he was ready to order.

‘What am I covering you for?’

‘I need to go and see Draco,’ Hermione said.

The waitress joined them, smiling brightly as she said hullo. Harry and Hermione were both regular customers and she was already fairly certain that she knew what they would order. Sure enough, within moments she returned to the counter for two mugs of tea, a full English breakfast with chips and toast, and a jacket potato with tuna and cheese.

With the waitress gone, Harry hissed, ‘You need to keep away from Draco Malfoy, not go to see him.’

‘I promised him I would spend Christmas with him,’ Hermione admitted.

Harry sighed. ‘Is that what this is all about, you worrying about letting him down? You’ve been transferred from the assignment, Hermione, so there’s nothing you can do about it. Your best bet is to keep as far away from Malfoy Manor as possible.’

‘Why, have you heard something?’ Hermione asked anxiously.  ~~~~

Harry shook his head. ‘No. But it can’t be long until a decision is made one way or another and you don’t want to be caught in the vicinity if the hit wizards come calling . . . or even if it’s just Percy and his transport team. Anyway, I thought you were working all over Christmas thanks to Sylvia. Isn’t that why you weren’t sure whether you were going to be able to make it to the Burrow for dinner?’

‘I _am_ supposed to be working and that’s why I need you to give me an alibi,’ Hermione said brightly.

‘But why? I just don’t understand why you’re so intent on seeing him. I would have thought he’d gone a bit loopy after all those years alone in that big old house, especially with only house-elves for company. I mean, they’re not normal, are they? Why on earth do you want to go there?’

‘Because I promised I would,’ Hermione said, ‘and because I like him, Harry, and I don’t want him to spend Christmas alone. He’s not crazy, you know. I think he just had a hard time coming to terms with everything that happened to his family after the war — Lucius being sent to prison, his mother dying. It was all just too much for him and he retreated from the world rather than face the derision and scorn that was being levied at him at the time.’

Harry studied her for a few seconds as he stirred sugar into his tea that had been delivered by the waitress.

‘When you say you like Draco, you mean you _really_ like him, don’t you? In a romantic way, I mean,’ he asked quietly, his face set in a frown.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, unable to answer the question truthfully. ‘He isn’t anything like you think he is, Harry. He’s completely different from the way he was at school, and we get on really well. I like being with him and I really want to spend Christmas with him.’

‘That’s why you were so upset about Sylvia pulling you off the assignment,’ Harry accused.

Hermione bristled at the allegation. ‘That’s not entirely true. I was annoyed because she got me to do all the hard work on the assignment but without getting any of the credit — she admitted as much to me just before she transferred me to the EPT. Now she’s probably going to completely ignore my report, too, which lists everything Draco and I identified to sell to meet the terms of the fine.

‘Instead, she’s going to arrest him, throw him in prison, and appropriate and sell Malfoy Manor and its contents just because she’s a vindictive old cow who’s getting me back for daring to stand up to her . . . and for getting Mr Weasley involved in stopping her from sacking Daphne. Of course I’m upset for Draco, Malfoy Manor is all he has left. His mother is interred in a mausoleum in the grounds, for Merlin’s sake. What’s going to happen to that if the Ministry seizes the place?’

‘He’s kept her on the estate?’ Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust. ‘That’s a bit freaky, isn’t it? That’s definitely not normal behaviour, Hermione.’

‘It is for rich people like the Malfoys,’ Hermione explained. She ground some black pepper over the top of the jacket potato the waitress had just placed in front of her. ‘All their family are interred there, going right back to the eleventh century. It’s a really interesting place, actually.’

‘Have you been in there?’ Harry asked as he dipped a slice of toast into the yolk of his fried egg.

‘Yes. I had to go everywhere on the estate to itemise anything that was worth selling. Sylvia would have pulled me up for it if I hadn’t gone in there.’

‘Was there anything in there worth listing?’ Harry sounded more interested now.

‘No. It’s just memorial stones mainly — they cover the coffin slots — plus some flowers that Draco puts in there every so often. There are a few candle holders but they’re nothing special, they’re not gold or anything like that. Although to be honest, I probably wouldn’t have listed anything that was in there even if there had been something valuable. It would be a bit like grave desecration,’ Hermione told him.

‘Well, I still think you’d be mental to risk it,’ Harry said. ‘If Sylvia finds out you’ve gone there she’ll have grounds to sack you.’

Hermione agreed. ‘I know, and that’s why I want to throw people off the trail for as long as possible. I just need you to tell the EPT that I’m ill and laid up in bed with the flu or something — I can start complaining about the symptoms this afternoon. They’re unlikely to check if you tell them, Harry, and with any luck, Sylvia won’t find out I was off until after I’ve returned to work, and there won’t be anything she can do about it because I was unwell.’

‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ Harry said. 

‘Maybe not, but it’s the best plan I’ve got.’ Hermione took a sip of her tea then added, ‘Look, I’m going to spend Christmas with Draco whether you help me or not, Harry. Just think of it as your Christmas present to me — helping me to keep my job.’

‘And if you do get caught?’ Harry asked anxiously.

‘Then you tell them I coerced you into lying for me and you only did it because you were worried about me. That should be enough to get you off the hook and Sylvia will sack me like she’s been trying to do for months.’

‘Are you really willing to lose your job for Draco Malfoy?’ Harry asked unhappily.

Hermione nodded. ‘Yes, I am. And I am going to Malfoy Manor whether you decide to help me or not.’

Harry sighed loudly, making it clear that he felt put-upon. ‘It seems like I don’t really have any choice in the matter, doesn’t it?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘It’s entirely up to you. If you really don’t want to help me, then don’t. I don’t want you feeling guilty all over Christmas because you think you’ve done the wrong thing. But I really don’t think spending my time with Draco is wrong. That’s why I’m willing to risk it.’

They ate in silence for several minutes, both of them concentrating only on their food apart from once when Harry motioned to the waitress to bring them more tea. Once their plates were empty and they were drinking the new drinks, Harry gazed at Hermione.

‘All right, I’ll cover for you. You go home early tomorrow — complain about feeling crap or something — and on Wednesday morning I’ll tell Fraser that you’re laid up with the flu. That should give you two or three days, at least. I’ll also warn the family that you’re not well so no one else starts wondering. But whatever you do, please make sure you’re not there if the Ministry comes calling. I know you want to help Draco, Hermione, but there’s really nothing you can do if Sylvia decides to ignore your report — you know there isn’t. Promise me you’ll get out before they arrive.’

Hermione considered for a moment, knowing that Harry would change his mind about helping if she told the truth. She nodded, signalling her agreement although she kept her fingers crossed under the table.

‘I’m working right up until Christmas Eve and then I’m not officially back at work until the twenty-ninth, which is next Monday, but I’m going to tell the office I’ll be doing a bit of work from home over the weekend and that if they need me they should contact me. I’ll put them on full alert that if any news comes up about Malfoy Manor they need to tell me immediately as I will have to coordinate with the hit wizards if they’re going in mob-handed. I’ll also have a word with Percy in case he’s been asked to send in the removers. Either way, if I get any news I’ll send you an owl. It should give you enough time to clear out before anyone turns up.’

‘Thank you, Harry,’ Hermione said gratefully. ‘You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing this for me.’

‘Yeah, well, you’ve helped me out in the past,’ Harry said. He ran his hand through his unruly hair. ‘I’ll have another word with Arthur, too, and see if he can do anything about getting your report looked at before Sylvia goes off on one. Maybe we can get Kingsley to take a look. I’m sure he would approve your conclusions rather than the forced seizure Sylvia’s considering.’

Hermione gave him a small, sad smile. ‘I think you’re probably too late as she’s had the best part of a week to consider what she’s going to do — and you know she just wants to thwart me, regardless of who else she hurts in the process. Getting Mr Weasley involved again isn’t going to make things any better. Kingsley would be the best bet, but I’m not even sure he’s in the country at the moment. I thought he was going to Jamaica for Christmas. He’s got family over there that he was looking forward to seeing. He was telling me all about it a few weeks ago — that and the rum.’

‘Well, I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure there must be some way to beat her,’ Harry insisted.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione stood once again before the huge and imposing metal gates of Malfoy Manor. Although she knew Draco and the house-elves were in there, the place looked every bit as dead as it had the first time she had tried to get in. Actually, if anything, it looked worse than it had the last time she had seen it.

As she peered through the metal bars, scanning for any signs of life, she noticed that areas of the garden that had sprung to life during her stay were now just as dead as the rest of the estate. Perhaps the frigid weather had finally taken its toll.

After trying several more unsuccessful spells, she banged the gate with her wand, causing sparks to fly out of it, frustration finally overtaking the excitement she had initially felt when she left her flat that morning.

Hermione felt the urge to scream but knew it wouldn’t do any good. She knew damn well that Draco and his staff were aware that she was out here, there was no point in making herself look like a fool just for their entertainment. She was extraordinarily pissed off, though. For over half an hour Draco had left her standing out here in the snow, freezing her bits off, presumably because he was sulking.

‘I don’t know what you’re sulking about. I’m here, you ungrateful bastard,’ Hermione grumbled tetchily to the non-moving gate.

‘But why are you here? I thought you were working all over Christmas.’ Draco appeared from nowhere, a scowl set deep on his pale face. Coldly, he added, ‘You’ve moved on, Hermione. Remember?’

Hermione scowled back but then sighed expressively. ‘I didn’t move on willingly, I told you that. Okay, maybe not as succinctly as I could have done — although to be fair, I was extremely upset at the time. I wanted to spend Christmas with you, Draco, I really did, and that’s why I’m here now.’

Draco just gave her his sullen glare and didn’t say a word.

‘You do realise I’ve risked my job to come here, don’t you?’ Hermione snapped. ‘I was told quite categorically to stay away but I came anyway. I’ve even faked illness to do so because I’m supposed to be on duty over the holidays. Are you going to let me in or should I go home and have a miraculous recovery?’

‘I don’t know why you came, anyway,’ Draco said sourly. He made no effort to open the gate or remove the protections on the property.

‘Because I wanted to spend Christmas with you,’ Hermione said. Going slightly pink — and not because of the cold weather — she admitted, ‘I enjoy your company, okay, and I didn’t want you to spend Christmas alone . . . and because I promised you I would. I really hate breaking promises, however good the reason.’

‘I thought you only agreed to spend Christmas with me to get me to stop talking about it,’ Draco allowed. ‘Then you sent that owl and I knew I was right.’

‘But you weren’t right,’ Hermione insisted. ‘Please let me in, Draco and I’ll tell you everything that’s happened over the last couple of weeks. You need to know, anyway. You need to be prepared.’ She gazed at him pleadingly. ‘Please. It’s bloody freezing out here and if I stay outside much longer I really will be ill.’

She shivered expressively to make the point.

Draco studied her suspiciously. ‘Are you on your own, though? That’s the thing, isn’t it? I mean, I could drop the wards and then a Magical Law Enforcement squad could get in, couldn’t they? How do I know I can trust you, Hermione?’

‘Look at me, Draco,’ Hermione said opening her arms in supplication, all the while trying to tamp down her frustration. ‘I swear I’m on my own; there aren't any Ministry bods waiting to jump out, at least not as far as I know. The only person who knows I’m here is Harry, and he’s covering for me at work and at the Burrow by telling everyone I’m in bed with the flu. So please, let me in, otherwise I’m going home because I’m getting cold and grumpy and I shouldn’t be spending my Christmas standing outside your gate begging to be let in.’

Draco nodded once, then waved his wand. Hermione felt that tingling sensation of the wards being dropped and her heart raced as pleasure and excitement rose within her.

‘Come along inside. I’ll get one of the house-elves to make us some hot chocolate,’ Draco said as the gate swung open. His wand was still drawn as he looked around him anxiously, clearly worried that Hermione had brought others with her. Once the gate closed behind her and the protections were replaced on the perimeter, Draco pocketed his wand and took Hermione’s bag from her, slinging it easily over his shoulder as they walked towards the house.

‘I think we’ve got a lot to talk about,’ Draco suggested.

‘I’ll tell you everything I know,’ Hermione promised. ‘I’ll be glad to get into the warm, though.’

Draco looked a little shamefaced at her comment. ‘I’m sorry. I suppose I’m a bit paranoid.’

‘No, you had good reason to suspect me, but you didn’t have to leave me out there for quite so long,’ Hermione admonished.

‘I was watching to see if I could spot anyone else. I thought they might come and talk to you if I left you out there long enough.’

‘As I said, I’m alone,’ Hermione retorted drily.

Draco shrugged. ‘I know that now but you can’t blame me for being careful, not after that message you sent me.’

He handed Hermione’s bag to a house-elf that was waiting in the entrance hall and asked it to make some hot chocolate for them, then helped her remove her cloak and took her scarf and gloves and hung them up. He indicated to a doorway across the hall as he removed his own cloak.

‘Come through to the drawing room. There’s a nice big fire going in there so it should be warm.’

Hermione preceded him into the room, where there was not only a roaring fire but a large Christmas tree, beautifully decorated, which took pride of place in the room. There was a pile of presents underneath, which Hermione assumed were for decoration. She sat down on one of the sofas, still gazing at the tree.

‘That tree is magnificent,’ she said, wondering where it had come from. She couldn’t imagine Draco or the house-elves leaving the manor to go and buy it, and in the time she had stayed there she hadn’t seen a single delivery made to the property. From what she had managed to glean the estate was almost completely self-sufficient.

‘It is a real beauty, isn’t it?’ Draco said, beaming. He moved towards the tree and pulled a few presents out of the way, revealing a large pot. ‘It’s a living tree that we’ve had for many years. During the year, it lives out in the grounds and just before Christmas the elves pot it for me and bring it in here so I can trim it. It doesn’t seem to mind being dug up and replanted, thank Merlin, and it adds a bit of brightness to the room during these cold, dark days.’

Having replaced the presents, he moved to sit in a chair and gazed at Hermione as a house-elf appeared carrying a silver tray containing two large glass cups housed in intricate silver holders and a large silver coffee pot. It placed them on the small occasional table to the side of Draco’s chair, along with a jug and a sugar bowl, then bowed and disappeared with a pop.

Draco indicated the coffee service. ‘Would you like cream and sugar in your chocolate, Hermione?’ he asked politely.

Hermione shook her head. ‘On its own will be fine, thanks, unless it’s cocoa and hasn’t already been sweetened. At least I’m beginning to thaw out a bit now.’

‘I said I was sorry,’ Draco retorted a touch defensively. He held out one of the now steaming cups to Hermione.

‘That wasn’t a dig. I was just making a general comment,’ Hermione said.

They sat for a while in slowly easing silence and Hermione soaked up the heat of the fire as the hot chocolate warmed her insides.

‘So, do you want to tell me what happened?’ Draco asked nonchalantly.

Hermione considered him gravely for a moment, then nodded.

‘I’m afraid I might have ruined things for you,’ she said sadly.

Draco frowned looking confused. ‘What do you mean, ruined things?’

Hermione sighed. ‘I told you that the Ministry of Magic would accept the items we identified as payment of your father’s debt. I went back to the office to write my report and to initiate an official valuation.’

‘I know that,’ Draco told her. ‘That’s why you left me.’

‘Yes, and before I went you remember I talked about my boss and what a difficult woman she could be?’

Draco grinned. ‘You called her an old cow.’

‘Believe me, that’s the _nicest_ thing I’ve called her in the last couple of weeks,’ Hermione said with a grimace. ‘I wasn’t kidding when I said she doesn’t like me and that’s she’s tried everything she can think of to get rid of me. But I’ve always managed to succeed in the tasks she set, and this time was no different.’

‘But surely it’s a good thing that you’re so good at your job, isn’t it?’ Draco asked sounding confused.

‘You would think so, but Sylvia — that’s her name, by the way — is worried that I’m trying to take her job — which I’m definitely not. So, instead of celebrating the fact that I get the difficult cases solved which boosts the reputation of our section, she sees it as a personal threat and tries ever harder to take me down.

‘She was certain she had succeeded this time — Malfoy Manor and its associations should have been enough — but then there was the addition of you, a recluse not inclined to let anyone in, let alone me who everyone knows you hated with a vengeance. But instead, you allowed me to do my job and didn’t argue about the goods that needed to be sold. It was exactly what she _didn’t_ want.’ 

‘But I thought the idea was to recover the money?’

‘Yes, but not by me. She wanted you to turn me away or for the house to give me such bad flashbacks that I ran away in terror. That’s the sort of person my boss is. She’s also the sort of person who because she was thwarted, lost her temper and extremely irrationally decided to sack Daphne.’

Draco looked vaguely surprised although still not too worried. ‘She sacked Daphne because she was annoyed with you? That’s a bit rough, but you said Daphne wasn’t very good at her job anyway so maybe that’s why Sylvia got rid of her.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘No. She got rid of her because she lost her temper. Daphne has made plenty of mistakes in the past and Sylvia’s never even told her off, let alone officially disciplined her for any of them. This time she made a couple of minor errors, mainly because they were significantly understaffed with me being out of the office and Jeremy, one of our other colleagues, going off on sick leave because he can’t cope with Sylvia’s bullying, and suddenly she’s chucking Daphne out the door without a moment’s notice.’

‘Can she do that if she hasn’t disciplined Daphne before?’ Draco asked.

‘No, she can’t. It’s quite blatantly against the rules. Daphne was so upset that I went to see Sylvia on her behalf, but although she knew she was in the wrong there was no way she was going to back down, especially when it was me doing the asking.’ Hermione sighed deeply. ‘I should have expected it, I suppose, but I was so angry I didn’t even consider it. I was so fed up with her bullying that I went to see Arthur Weasley and told him what had happened.

‘Well, you know Arthur’s been with the Ministry forever so he knows the rules inside out, and he agreed that Daphne couldn’t be sacked for such minor errors if no previous disciplinary action had been taken against her. So he went to see Sylvia and told her she had to reinstate Daphne immediately.’

‘Oh, shit. I bet she wasn't pleased about that,’ Draco said.

Hermione grimaced again. ‘That’s something of an understatement. She gave Daphne her job back, with very bad grace too, but she was determined to punish me — both for standing up to her about Daphne in the first place and for getting Arthur involved.

‘When we had our meeting to discuss my final report she told me that I had been taken off your assignment and moved to another department — to a case that was going to involve working over the Christmas holidays and every weekend until the end of February, at the earliest.

‘I’m positive she knew I was expecting to come back here for Christmas and arranged that on purpose so I couldn’t spend any time with you. I pointed out that I had to get your case completed first but she told me someone else could finish the job and take all the credit for the work.’

Draco looked stunned now. ‘Wow. You’re not kidding about her being a real bitch.’ 

‘Oh, it gets worse, believe me. Is there any more chocolate?’ Hermione held out her glass as Draco picked up the silver pot. After he refilled it she took a sip of the drink, then continued, ‘When I explained that you wouldn’t let anyone else in and I had promised you I would come back for Christmas to help with the packing she got even nastier and said she didn’t care. She only did it because she knew it would upset me.

‘But then it became clear she was going to completely ignore the extensive report I had made, too. The way she was talking, it was as if she was going to commandeer the Malfoy estate by force. She started going on about sending in hit wizards to take you down and said she was going to send you to Azkaban if you refused to allow them to take the items they wanted.

‘I begged her to follow the plan I’d outlined but she just told me to get out of her office and go to my new section or she would call security. I tried to argue, but having been burnt once over Daphne she had made sure she had covered herself this time.

‘Despite the section being chronically short-staffed she had conducted a study that somehow concluded I was surplus to requirements. My only choice was to move to the new section and leave your case behind. Refusal to go would have been considered resigning my post and leaving the Ministry of Magic completely.

‘I had no choice, Draco. All I could do was get Daphne and Ben to agree to tell me if she made any plans to move on Malfoy Manor, then I left and sent you an owl to warn you what was happening.’ Hermione looked rueful. ‘I’m sorry it wasn’t very coherent but I was really upset about what had happened.’

Draco snorted furiously. ‘I’m not surprised, after all that. How the hell did you manage to keep your temper? If that had been me I would have hexed her for sure.’

Hermione sighed. ‘I thought about it, I honestly did. But it wouldn’t have done anyone any good in the long run. I’d have lost my job, Sylvia would have got what she wanted plus a load of undeserved sympathy and would probably be even meaner to the rest of the staff, and you would still be in the same position but without me having any chance of doing anything to help.’

‘Well, I suppose at least you’re away from her now. That’s a positive point,’ Draco said.

Hermione shook her head sadly. ‘She’s still my boss. She refused to allow me to be transferred completely because she knows that at some point — when it’s too late for you, probably — her assessment will be overturned and she’ll have no choice but to take me back, especially if Jeremy stays out on sick leave; there’s no way Ben and Daphne can cope with all that work alone. Also, it means she still oversees my discipline, so if she finds out I’m here I’ll be out on my ear quicker than you can say “you’re fired!”’

‘If that’s the case, what are you doing here, Hermione?’ Draco challenged, his voice slightly anxious.

Hermione was adamant. ‘I told you, I want to spend Christmas with you Draco, and I’m not letting that old cow dictate my life for me.’

‘What did Potter have to say about all this?’ Draco asked.

‘There’s not a lot he can do, to be honest. He’s only deputy head at the moment so he can’t go up against Sylvia. He wasn’t too chuffed when I told him my plan about coming here but eventually, he agreed to cover for me, which will hopefully be enough for my team not to check too hard, or bother telling Sylvia that I’m away from work. They don’t like her either.’

‘Is there anyone who does?’

Hermione considered the question seriously for a few seconds. ‘No. I don’t think so. She’s not exactly endearing, even outside the team, and she hates ceding control to any of the other departments. Anyway, Harry said he’ll keep an ear out in case she is planning on storming this place. He was going to talk to Percy, too — to see if he’s been asked to provide transport, you know, for moving the items we listed.

‘Hopefully, I’ll be able to stay for a couple of days, at least, although I will need to return to work on the twenty-seventh regardless. I don’t think I’d get away with being ill for much longer than that without the old cow being told.’

Draco smiled. ‘Anything is better than you not being here at all. It turns out that I enjoy your company, Hermione, and I was quite disappointed when you said you weren’t coming back.’

‘I gathered that from the way you acted earlier. But I’m here now so let’s just enjoy the time we have and forget all about the Ministry of Magic . . . and the old cow, too,’ Hermione told him.

‘I’m more than happy to do that,’ Draco said. He sat quietly while Hermione finished her chocolate, then enquired, ‘Do you want a chance to freshen up before dinner?’

Hermione smiled. ‘That would be nice. It’ll give me a chance to change into something better suited for indoors. What time is dinner, anyway?’

‘Seven, so you’ve got more than enough time. There’s plenty of hot water if you want a bath or anything. It sounds like you could do with some relaxation time after everything you’ve been through in the last couple of weeks.’

They stood up and Hermione followed Draco back into the entrance hall.

‘Are you happy to have the same room?’ he asked as they made their way towards the stairs.

Hermione smiled again. ‘Of course I am. It was a nice room. Anyway, anywhere is better than the cellar.’

Draco winced at the jibe and scowled. Hermione touched his arm gently.

‘I was only joking, Draco. I’ve already told you I don’t blame you for anything that happened here during the war, and I’ve long since got over being worried about the place or you. Anyway, I never went in the cellar. I didn’t get that far, did I?’

Draco looked sad for a moment and Hermione saw the pain flash in his eyes, but then he smiled too.

‘You know where you’re going. If you need anything just ask one of the house-elves. I’ll see you at dinner. I need to pop down to the greenhouses for a while.’

He moved to the coat rack and collected his cloak as Hermione walked up the stairs towards her room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco and Hermione had just finished ploughing their way through the first two courses of the magnificent Christmas lunch the house-elves had prepared for them: lovely buttery asparagus served with a poached egg for a starter, followed by mushroom and Stilton Wellington with supremely flaky pastry, one of the tastiest dishes Hermione had tried at Malfoy Manor. This had been served with crispy yet somehow deliciously squashy roast potatoes and an extensive selection of fine vegetables, although fortunately not sprouts — it turned out that Draco hated them every bit as much as Hermione did.

Now they were resting and allowing their meal to settle while finishing off the rather fine bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape ’96 that Draco had served to accompany the meal. Later, Hermione knew there would be Christmas pudding and brandy butter, followed, so Draco had warned her, by a selection of cheese and biscuits and an excellent port wine that was older than they were and, like the earlier red, came from his father’s extensive wine collection.

Hermione found it interesting that Lucius had collected so many expensive Muggle wines when he had always shown nothing but contempt for the Muggle world, and mentioned this dichotomy to Draco. He explained that while his father had been all about “Pure-blood supremacy” when the Dark Lord was around, in truth his father’s and most of his ancestors’ only wish for the Malfoy family was to accumulate as much power and wealth as they could from wherever it could be obtained, and it wasn’t only the wine they had collected.

Over the time they had resided at Malfoy Manor the family had invested heavily in the Muggle stock markets and had accumulated many of their works of art, as well as some of the finer pieces of furniture along with several of the exquisite pieces of jewellery housed in Narcissa’s rooms. Some of these were among the items that had been earmarked for release to the Ministry of Magic in payment of Lucius’ debt, but there were still plenty of items that would remain in the family.

Draco had discovered — rather too late, he admitted — that the Malfoys were not pureblood all the way through their family tree. Before the International Statute of Secrecy had come into force in 1689 the family had regularly associated with and even married Muggles if they were rich or had enough authority. The Malfoys had been completely against the Statute coming into force as it severely limited their ability to acquire the wealth and power they craved so dearly, but once it was put in place they had the sense to realise they should stop complaining. That was when they had turned the other way instead, becoming completely anti-Muggle.

Hermione was fascinated to hear Draco’s family’s history, especially when he went on to explain how they had been close to William the Conqueror; Armand Malfoy coming to Britain with him when he had invaded with the Norman army. In fact, Malfoy Manor had been given to them at that time which, she realised, explained all the stories about the place down in the village of Winterslow.

A later ancestor, also called Lucius, had apparently, attempted to court Queen Elizabeth I. She chose to reject him and in retaliation, he jinxed her, which was the real reason she had been so opposed to marriage. This less than stellar nugget of the family history had been well hidden, particularly once they decided to focus their efforts on pushing their pureblood credentials. It would never do for anyone to discover that they were blood traitors, particularly the Dark Lord, even if he was only Half-blood himself.

As she listened to Draco talk about his family, Hermione found herself looking critically around the dining room. This room, along with several others she had examined since she had been back, including her own room, seemed to have deteriorated further since her last visit. It had only been a couple of weeks, but from the look of it, the decay had obviously been much worse than she had thought at the time.

There were definitely several areas of the room that were in need of repair; it was no longer just faded glamour but distinctly dilapidated. It was strange seeing it like this when she was certain it had seemed as if it had been getting better when she had stayed before. Now she thought back on it, she could only presume that her mind had been playing tricks on her.

Although she would have liked to broach the subject with him, Hermione was fairly certain that Draco would be touchy on the subject of renovation as that would clearly take the sort of money he no longer had. She remembered how annoyed he had got with her the last time she queried the disappearing inheritance.

While the relationship between them was slightly different now — she couldn’t imagine the Draco she had known at school ever admitting to the things he had told her this afternoon — she suspected he still wouldn’t be any more forthcoming about his finances than he had been before. It really wasn’t worth an argument, particularly today, when everything was going so well between them.

It was annoying, though, that this beautiful house and its once magnificent gardens were being allowed to slowly fall apart, almost before her very eyes. It was particularly frustrating when it could so easily be turned around. Hermione had managed to get Draco to part with enough of his estate to clear his father’s debt but he wouldn’t countenance any more of it being sold to cover anything else.

Hermione could understand his reluctance to sell his belongings to some degree; but then, if he was so possessive of the Malfoy estate, why wouldn’t he do whatever was needed to keep it in good repair? It was even more frustrating when she considered that just one of Narcissa’s heirloom pieces of jewellery would probably fetch enough to completely rebuild and redecorate the entire manor.

That made her think of the gorgeous suite of rooms in the wing opposite the one where she was housed. It was strange that Draco would take such good care of those rooms when he seemed completely indifferent to the fate of the rest of the house. Did his mother really still have such strong a hold over him that he had to keep the rooms in perfect condition, even to the detriment of the other areas of the house that needed urgent attention?

Yet again, Hermione knew she couldn’t ask without starting an argument. But if she was going to continue to have contact with him in the future, which she really hoped she would, then eventually he was going to have to talk to her about it and she would have to have faith that she could help him. Otherwise, at some point, Draco would have no choice but to move out of Malfoy Manor, probably permanently.

Draco spoke to her, drawing Hermione’s mind away from the house and back to him. She had no idea what he had just said.

‘I’m sorry, what did you say? I was miles away just then,’ she apologised.

Draco smiled. ‘I was just asking whether you were ready for dessert.’

Hermione blew out her cheeks. ‘I don’t think so. I still feel pretty stuffed from that lovely main course.’

Sounding tremendously pleased, Draco replied, ‘Good. Me too. In that case, do you fancy going for a walk? It doesn’t seem too bad out there at the moment. Now the snow’s settled and the wind’s dropped a bit it’s quite warm. We could walk off our lunch, then come back and have the Christmas pudding. What do you think?’

Hermione nodded. ‘That sounds like a good idea.’

‘Great. I’ll go and get our cloaks.’ Draco stood up, pulling the green and gold cracker crown from his head and laying it on the table beside his empty plate. ‘I’ll see you in a minute.’

Hermione removed her own blue cracker crown and studied the tawdry item. She had been surprised that Draco had crackers although she wasn’t sure why — the non-delivery thing again, she supposed.

He had been eager to pull them and was happy to don the gaudy crown, insisting that Hermione had to wear hers too, even though she tried to use her exploding hair as an excuse not to. Eventually, he had left his seat and forced the hat down onto her head, and there it stayed for the whole meal, like some weird headband. Now, she dropped it onto the table and stood, then made her way out to the entrance hall to join Draco.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione was feeling restless but she wasn’t quite sure why. Part of it, she suspected, had to do with having to leave Malfoy Manor again tomorrow to return to work, something she desperately didn’t want to do but had no choice about.

Harry had obviously succeeded in his cover story and she had managed the best part of three blissfully quiet and happy days with Draco, but if she stayed any longer she would get caught. Three days in bed with flu she could expect to get away with, any more than that and she would be considered milking it, and then Sylvia might get to hear about it.

Her boss wouldn’t be able to do anything once Hermione was back at work — she would never be able to prove that Hermione _hadn’t_ been ill — but if she was discovered before she returned it was a completely different matter.

The problem was that part of her was also still convinced that the old cow was planning something with regards to Malfoy Manor and Hermione had a feeling she was banking on Draco, as a recluse, to retaliate so she could storm the place and take over.

Unfortunately, Hermione knew that Sylvia was absolutely right. There was no way in the world Draco would leave the estate willingly. He would fight until he was either overwhelmed and shackled to be taken away to that horrible prison in the middle of the North Sea where his father already languished or until he was severely injured — or worse still, killed.

Hermione really didn’t want to leave him to have to fight alone, despite what she had indicated to Harry. But the idea of losing her job, to have that failure on her conscience, terrified her too, and this stopped her from settling. If only she knew whether her report had been accepted, but she had heard nothing from Harry over the festive period; no owls had come her way bearing tidings, good or ill.

She frowned, suddenly wondering whether an owl would be able to break through all the enchantments Draco had set on the perimeter of the Malfoy estate. Although the post owls’ talents were legendary — they could, apparently, track down anyone who was still alive regardless of how well hidden they were — it didn’t mean they would actually be able to deliver if obstacles such as repelling charms were placed in their way.

This was something Hermione hadn’t considered before and it would explain why she hadn’t received any news. She couldn’t believe Harry wouldn’t have told her if he had managed to talk to Kingsley, for instance, especially if the response was positive because he knew how worried she was.

The problem was that she couldn’t go outside the grounds without removing the wards, and if the old cow had arranged an invasion then that would give the Ministry of Magic exactly what they needed to attack.

Hermione sighed as she stared out of the library window, trying to see across the expanse of lawn and beyond the perimeter wall. It all seemed completely still and silent. Were there owls out there waiting? She couldn’t see properly but now she needed to be certain.

‘Are you okay, Hermione?’ Draco looked up from the book he was reading, studying her appraisingly.

Trying to hide her anxiety, Hermione nodded. ‘I think I might just pop into the garden for a few minutes — get some fresh air. I’m feeling a bit cooped up in here and I’ve got a backache. I need to walk around a bit.’ She rubbed her lower back as if trying to ease the pain.

‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Draco asked. He was loafing comfortably in one of the large chairs, his left leg dangling over the side. He looked at her expectantly.

‘Not if you don’t want to get up,’ Hermione said. ‘I probably won’t be very long because it’ll be dark soon and it’s cold out there.’

Draco stretched idly and yawned. ‘I’ll stay here, then. I tell you what; you go for your walk and in about ten minutes I’ll order us some tea. It should be here by the time you get back.’

Hermione smiled at him. ‘Thanks, that sounds good. I’ll see you shortly, then.’

She left the room, rapidly making her way to the entrance hall to collect her cloak. She had to hurry before the light faded too much and she couldn’t see. As she opened the front door and was hit by the rush of cold air she considered going back to the library and just asking Draco about owls but she didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. Although he had been careful not to show it during their time together, Hermione knew he had to be anxious about the possibility of being raided.

Walking briskly, Hermione walked towards the closest wall, checking as she went for signs of wildlife of the Strigiforme variety. She could see nothing at first, but then, looking towards a tree across the road from the gates to Malfoy Manor she saw something. Her first thought was to rush to the gate to get a better look but then she remembered she wasn’t supposed to be here. If there were hit wizards spying on the property she didn’t want them to see her unless she had no other choice.

She pulled her wand from her pocket and quietly performed a spell to increase her vision momentarily. Hermione swallowed hard as her vision returned to normal, her heart sinking. There were three owls in the tree and she was pretty sure one of them was Harry’s personal owl, Archie. She took a deep breath to steady herself, her mind racing as she hurried back to the house.

Of course, it could be okay. Maybe the owls were from Harry telling her he had talked to Kingsley and the Minister for Magic had agreed that they should act upon her report, and maybe he had merely re-sent the message when he hadn’t heard back from her. But as much as Hermione tried to accept this she couldn’t believe that three, or maybe even more owls that she hadn’t noticed previously, had been sent her way for good news.

Maybe Sylvia had discovered that she wasn’t ill, in which case she was going to lose her job. Perhaps that was what Harry was warning her about. But in that case, she was certain the old cow would definitely attack Malfoy Manor because she knew Hermione was so worried about Draco.

That meant the hit wizards could already be outside, could be trying to get through the defensive spells even now. If that was the case she might as well stay. If she had already lost her job there was no point in fleeing unless she could get Draco to go with her, and she already knew that was a virtual impossibility.

Hermione suddenly thought of the Floo, wondering whether they could use that to contact Harry to see what was happening, then wondered why neither she nor Harry had thought of it before. She felt another chill run through her that had nothing to do with the weather. How did the Floo network operate?

She had never been too interested in knowing anything about it apart from the useful bits — that fireplaces across the country were joined through the network. That meant the Malfoy Manor Floo was connected to the Ministry of Magic as well as to the Burrow and Harry’s home and so on. She knew that because she had previously used it to get to work, had intended to use it tomorrow to get out of the grounds without Draco needing to drop the wards.

Panic suddenly ran through Hermione as she sped up, almost running now as she reached the front door. Was it possible to block the Floo from incoming traffic or was that sort of thing controlled by the Floo Network Authority? She knew they were able to observe the traffic on individual Floos — back during their fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry had twice had to break into Dolores Umbridge’s office as it was the only one in the school not being monitored. If they could control the Floo, they could get in without needing to break Draco’s defensive spells from the outside, and once they were inside they could shatter them easily.

As she reached to open the door, terror pounding through her, Hermione turned back to look towards the gate, now hardly visible in the encroaching twilight and prayed she was wrong. Suddenly there was a flare of bright light — pure white light rushing towards her rapidly — and her heart beat so fast she thought it was going to explode.

As it came closer, Hermione could see that it was a Patronus — a stag Patronus. Harry, in his desperation to contact her, had sent her a message in the only way he could guarantee would get through.

Immediately, Hermione remembered the last time she had seen a Patronus appear this way. It was at Bill and Fleur’s wedding when Kingsley had sent his Patronus to warn them that the Ministry of Magic had fallen to Voldemort and the Death Eaters were on their way to attack the Burrow. Knowing that she would immediately associate it with that terrifying episode, Harry would never have sent his Patronus unless the situation was equally grave.

‘They’re going to attack Malfoy Manor as soon as it gets dark.’ Harry’s voice sounded ethereal but frantic as it erupted from the stag that was still racing towards Hermione. ‘You need to get out. If you can use the Floo, do so immediately. Go to the Burrow and take Draco with you if you can. If they’ve started early and have already got in, wait for the defences to fall and then Disapparate — whatever you do, _do not_ stay to fight.’

The Patronus disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

Hermione pushed open the door, already running for the library, calling for Draco. He poked his head out of the door, looking worried.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

Hermione stopped to catch her breath for a moment, panting heavily.

‘Raid,’ she said. ‘The Ministry is here, and I think they’re coming through the Floo unless you’ve got it blocked.’

Draco shook his head, his face paling as he realised what was happening. ‘But surely they can’t just break in. Don’t they have to give me a warning first — give me the chance to leave peacefully?’

Hermione snorted angrily. ‘We’re dealing with Sylvia here and you already know she doesn’t play fair Draco. She probably told them she’s already talked to you and you told her to get lost — you’re supposed to be an irascible recluse, remember? That would be enough for the Department to act and they’ll use any way at their disposal of getting in. Don’t forget the Ministry controls the Floo network.’

‘So what are we supposed to do?’

‘We need to see if we can block the Floo to stop them getting into the house. Once they get in here they can easily break your protection spells on the perimeter and let in others.’

‘You need to get out,’ Draco said. ‘You need to leave before they catch you.’

Hermione shook her head sadly. ‘It’s too late for that . . . unless you’re coming with me?’

‘I can’t leave the house-elves,’ Draco said wretchedly. ‘It’s not fair to them to have to deal with a bunch of invading wizards.’

‘Then we both stay,’ Hermione insisted. ‘See if you can get to the Floo before they get in.’

Nodding his understanding, Draco ran, leaving Hermione to follow behind, trying to work out what the hell they were going to do.

Draco was calling for the house-elves as he ran, bellowing out orders for them to arm themselves and prepare to repel anyone who entered the house or grounds. Hermione sent up a quick prayer that Harry’s message had arrived in time and charged after him.  

‘I can’t block it,’ he said when she joined him. ‘I’ve tried but it’s not working. I assume they’ve jammed it or something. They’re probably waiting for nightfall before they come in as they’ll be harder to spot in the dark. We’ve only got about five minutes.’

‘We need to get away from here, then. Unless we’re going to fight?’ Hermione said, staring at Draco.

He looked miserable. ‘I can’t let them take the Manor, Hermione.’

‘I understand that, but it doesn’t mean we have to fight — not at first, anyway. Harry knows what’s happening and I’m sure he will rally people to help us but until then we have to protect ourselves.’

‘There will be too many of them,’ Draco objected.

Hermione nodded. ‘Yes, so we need to make it as hard as possible for them to proceed. If they can’t get to you they can’t arrest you and take you to Azkaban. We need to lock and ward all the doors, make them as difficult to get through as possible. If they have to open every door before they can go any further it’ll give us a bit of time.’ 

‘Especially if the house-elves help to keep them occupied,’ Draco suggested.

‘As long as they don’t put themselves in danger,’ Hermione warned anxiously. ‘I don’t know what the hit wizards’ ethics are with regards to house-elves. They might just stupefy them without even thinking about it.’

‘We don’t have time to worry about that at the moment,’ Draco pointed out. ‘We need to go.’

Hermione tried one last time to block the Floo, then put a shield charm across the fireplace, the only thing she could think of that might hold up the attack. Draco added his own charm and they left the study, locking and warding the door as they went.

‘You should go upstairs,’ Hermione told him as they set defensive wards on every door they could find. They could hear noise coming from the study and knew the hit wizards had got in and were trying to break through the charms. ‘You’re the one they’re after. Once they take you down it’s all over.’

‘I’m not leaving you down here to fight on your own,’ Draco protested.

‘Please, Draco,’ Hermione begged. ‘I don’t want you ending up in Azkaban. Go upstairs and the house-elves and I will try to keep them occupied for as long as possible.’

‘No way! I’m not letting you risk getting injured while I cower away upstairs like some coward,’ Draco retorted. ‘Either we both go or we stay here and fight.’

‘They’ll be through that door soon,’ Hermione said, thinking quickly. ‘Let’s go upstairs and barricade ourselves in. We’ll have to hope Harry gets here before they get to us.’

‘If he’s coming,’ Draco said sourly.

‘He will,’ Hermione assured him. ‘Now, come on.’

There was a crash as the study door broke, then a yell as a couple of house-elves charged down the corridor towards the sound. Hermione and Draco raced up the stairs. Hermione started along the west wing corridor towards her bedroom, then noticed Draco wasn’t following her.

She turned to see him trying to put a spell on the other wing of the house, trying to shield and glamour it in an attempt to stop the intruders invading. She realised that once again he was trying to protect his mother’s rooms and annoyance flared that even now, when the wizards were almost close enough to attack, he was still more worried about her memory than his own safety.

‘Come on, Draco, we haven’t got time for that,’ she hissed.

She heard shouts and a couple of screams of pain from down below that were closer than she would have liked. She had no idea whether the injured were human or house-elf.

‘I can’t let them get into my mother’s room,’ Draco said. ‘Can you imagine what they would do to it if they saw all her belongings?’

Hermione sighed. ‘If they haven’t already they’ll breach the perimeter fence shortly and then we’ll be overrun. Our only sensible option then will be to leave the manor and go to the Burrow.’

‘I am _not_ leaving Malfoy Manor to a bunch of thugs from the Ministry of Magic. I agree that you should go, though,’ Draco insisted.

‘Why should I go if you’re not willing to?’ Hermione bristled at the comment.

‘Because I don’t want you getting hurt or getting into trouble with your boss, and you will if you stay here and help me.’

Hermione shook her head as she stared at him. ‘I’m not leaving either.’ She sighed again. ‘All right, you go to your mother’s room and barricade yourself in there. I’ll stay here and try to pick them off if they come up the stairs. I can buy you a few minutes, at least.’

‘I’ve already told you I’m not leaving—’

‘For Merlin’s sake, Draco, just go and lock yourself in — NOW!’ Hermione screamed, fear and anger welling in her in equal measure.

There was banging on the front door and the sound of running footsteps coming down the hall. Hermione stared at Draco pleadingly, fear clearly showing on her face, tears glistening in her eyes.

‘Please go,’ she whispered.

‘Hermione, I—’

‘GO!’

There was a crack as the massive oak beams of the front door began to splinter. Draco stared at Hermione with a mixture of gratitude and exasperation, then nodded once. He ran up the stairs and along the hall into the east wing, leaving her alone on the landing as the first of the hit wizards reached the entrance hall.

Taking up a position that left her with a fairly decent view of most of the hall but didn’t leave her too exposed, Hermione crouched down and waited, knowing she couldn’t attack first or she would end up being blamed for starting the fight, and then she would find herself in prison along with Draco. She could only attack in retaliation. That would lose Hermione her job, but right now she didn’t care about that.

‘Hurry up, Harry, we need you,’ she whispered as she continued to watch the hall.

The wizard had made it to the front door and was trying to break the defences to assist in opening it. With a roar of fury, a house-elf appeared, as if from nowhere, and launched itself at the man, trying to fight him away from the door.

There was a flash of red light and the elf dropped to the floor, and Hermione’s anger erupted. Two spells flew from her wand in quick succession, the first felling the wizard at the front door and the second hitting the elf-attacker as he entered the hall.

The witch and wizard that followed their colleagues were slightly better prepared, knowing Hermione was attacking. But their spells didn’t get anywhere near her and she managed to hit both of them before retreating back behind the thick oak newel. She knew there were more coming, but the house-elves were delaying them.

But as Hermione watched, the front door burst open and another four wizards were standing in the doorway. Spell after spell flew as she tried to stop them gaining further entry into the house. Her job was made more difficult by the house-elves who were also attacking, as Hermione didn’t want to risk hurting them. There was a sharp crack just behind her and she yelped in shock, her heart thudding as she realised someone had Apparated onto the landing. She was in serious trouble.

‘There you are,’ Ron said as Hermione turned to look at him in astonishment. ‘Shit!’

He ducked as a spell zinged past his head, just missing him. Hermione turned and sent one back.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she hissed as she continued to retaliate against the spells coming their way, in between trying to refresh the shield charm she had put up across the bottom of the stairs.

‘Harry knew you wouldn’t leave so he sent me ahead to get you out,’ Ron said.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Hermione told him shortly. ‘Where is Harry, anyway?’

‘He’s on his way,’ Ron hissed as another spell almost hit him and he grabbed Hermione and pulled her out of the way of another. He glanced around warily, then asked, ‘Where’s Malfoy? Why are you out here fighting and he’s nowhere to be seen? He’s a real piece of work, isn’t he? What a coward!’

Hermione glared at Ron. ‘If he’s got any sense he’s barricaded himself in one of the rooms in the east wing like I told him to. I sent him there because it’s him they’re after. The longer I can stop them the more chance he has of still being free when Harry stops this stupid raid. Draco doesn’t deserve to go to Azkaban, Ron. Now, are you going to help me or just keep whingeing? If it’s the latter you can go away because I don’t need the distraction right now.’

Ron shook his head. Sounding disgruntled, he said, ‘Harry was right, you are in love with Malfoy.’

‘I just don’t want him to get sent to prison because Sylvia’s a vindictive bitch,’ Hermione retorted. ‘Now, are you going to help me here or what?’

‘Of course,’ Ron said, rolling his eyes. ‘When don’t I help you out, Hermione?’

While Hermione covered him he moved across the landing and ducked behind the other newel.

‘So, what’s the plan?’ he asked.

‘Keep them back as long as possible. Is anyone else coming to help?’

Ron shrugged. ‘George is around somewhere — he was waiting for us to join him outside the gate — but I think that’s it, unless Harry’s managed to round up anyone else since we left. He had to go to the Ministry but said he’d be along shortly.’

‘Ah, Weasley. Good to see you.’

Hermione turned and glared furiously at Draco, who had reappeared on the landing beside her.

‘What are you doing here?’ She hissed. ‘I told you to—’

‘Did she used to boss you and Potter around all the time?’ Draco asked Ron, rolling his eyes at Hermione’s outburst.

Ron chuckled deeply. ‘Yes. That’s what Hermione’s best at, being a bossy cow.’

‘Oi, I’m right here, you know.’ Hermione turned her glare on Ron for a second, then looked back at Draco. ‘Why aren’t you barricading yourself in like we agreed?’

Draco shook his head, a flicker of amusement in his expression. ‘You don’t honestly think I would leave you to defend me on your own while I locked myself away like some sort of recreant, do you, Hermione? I just went to secure things and now I’m back.’

‘But we talked about this,’ Hermione said desperately. ‘It’s too dangerous for you to be out here. If they catch you—’

Trying to soothe her, Draco said, ‘They’re not going to catch me, not with the three of us here to fight them off. There can’t be that many more to fight off, anyway. It’s not like they’re going to send an army against me, is it? I’m not Voldemort, just some sad recluse living alone with his house-elves.’

‘Actually, they think you’re pretty dangerous, being the son of a Death Eater . . . and Sylvia suspects that Hermione warned you about the raid and thinks you’ll have prepared yourself for a siege, so she’s really ramped up the numbers,’ Ron informed them, his tone apologetic.

‘Gods, that woman is such a moron,’ Hermione blasted. ‘If she’d just accepted my bloody report we wouldn’t be going through any of this and no one would have been injured. I really wish Harry would hurry up, though.’

‘You and me both,’ Ron agreed.

‘Draco Malfoy! The Ministry of Magic has jurisdiction, under Ministry decree number thirty-seven, to seize the property known as Malfoy Manor as you have refused to comply with its requests to pay the fine owed by the Malfoy family.

‘You are hereby ordered to report immediately to one of the Ministry wizards who have entered the property and, without any attempt at retaliation, hand over your wand. If you do this you will be treated equably. Failure to hand over your wand will constitute a breach of Ministry decree number forty-two and will result in force being used to overpower and restrain you and will end with you being incarcerated indefinitely in Azkaban prison.’

The voice, cold and precise, rang out around the whole manor as Hermione, Ron and Draco stared at each other.

‘You can’t win, Malfoy, so you might as well give up now,’ one of the wizards in the hall shouted up the stairs to them.

There was a roar as several house-elves charged into the entrance hall and attacked the wizard who had just spoken. He yelped in pain as he tried to beat off the attackers.

‘Draco hasn’t done anything,’ Hermione shouted down the stairs. ‘He’s been nothing but helpful throughout every stage of this process, but a mistake was made and you were called out unnecessarily. Please, stop fighting us. There’s no need for anyone else to get hurt.’

‘Come down here and give up your wands and then we’ll talk,’ a tall wizard dressed in brown robes said as he walked towards the stairs. He was the one who had issued the Ministry edict.

‘I don’t trust him,’ Hermione said quietly to her friends.

‘Neither do I, but what choice have we got?’ Ron asked.

They looked at the massing ranks of wizards and witches who were now easily overpowering the few remaining house-elves.

‘I’m not giving up Malfoy Manor, and I’m definitely not going to give up my wand,’ Draco stated.

‘Neither am I,’ Hermione agreed staunchly. ‘We’ll just have to try and keep them at bay until Harry gets here. He can’t be much longer, surely?’

Ron frowned but then sighed. ‘All right, so we fight.’

Hermione strengthened the protection charm in front of them. ‘You know it’s going to get rough, right?’

‘I was at the Battle of Hogwarts, remember?’ Ron retorted.

‘Okay, I was just warning you,’ Hermione hissed.

There was another pop. All three turned towards the sound, ready to hex the intruder. Draco’s spell, already cast, whisked past George’s head. He ducked and grimaced as Hermione and Ron both sighed with relief and lowered their wands.

‘You really need to sort out your protection charms at the back here otherwise anyone could get in,’ he said with a grin. ‘It’s just lucky those bozos down there are too thick to think beyond charging _towards_ your defences.’

George raised his wand and began to put a protection charm on the stairs to the west wing as Draco did the same with the east wing. Ron turned to place a charm behind them as Hermione raised a shield above and in front of them. The four of them were now cocooned in a small area on the landing.

‘Welcome to the madhouse,’ Hermione said. ‘It was nice of you to join us.’

‘There’s no way I’m missing out if you’re going up against the establishment, Hermione,’ George said. He was still grinning as if he was having a fantastic time. He winked at her. ‘You know I can’t beat a bit of subversive behaviour, especially when we’re so clearly outnumbered.’

‘I sincerely hope you’re not put in the cell next to me in Azkaban, Weasley,’ Draco growled, frowning at the clowning man.

‘Don’t be so bloody pessimistic, Malfoy. All we’ve got to do is stick it out until Harry gets here,’ George retorted. ‘He told us what happened with that stupid boss of yours, Hermione. You should have told Kingsley about her a long time ago.’

Hermione sighed. ‘I know, but I thought eventually someone else would work out what she was like and would do something about her without me having to be a snitch. How did you know about the raid, anyway?’

‘Percy warned us,’ Ron said. ‘As Head of Magical Transport, he has overall control of the Floo network. He saw the request come in from the hit wizards asking for Malfoy Manor to be kept open. He obviously knew what was happening as Harry had already talked to him about it over lunch yesterday. He passed the message to George and me as he couldn’t get hold of Harry.

‘Apparently, he’d had his own message about the raid from his team and gone to the Ministry of Magic to try to get it stopped. We were just about to come here anyway when an owl turned up telling us to come and get Hermione out because he knew she would insist on staying and fighting.’

He looked at Hermione. ‘You do realise the Ministry now know that you’re not ill, don’t you?’

Hermione looked surprised. ‘I assumed they already knew and that was why Sylvia launched the attack now.’

Ron shook his head. ‘No. She chose today because it’s a Bank Holiday so hardly anyone is working — fewer people to find out what she’s up to. That’s why Harry was so desperate to get you to leave. As far as Sylvia’s concerned you’re still at work — the EPT haven’t told her you’re ill yet, and they think you’ve got the flu. You were covered until you just shouted at that wizard down there.’

‘Perhaps they won’t know it’s Hermione,’ Draco suggested limply.

Ron snorted. ‘Who else is going to even be here, let alone fight with you? Until this evening, she’s the only person who’s been inside Malfoy Manor for a decade.’

‘So if I’ve lost my job anyway there’s no reason for me to give up now,’ Hermione said. ‘We just have to keep the shield charms in place until Harry arrives.’

‘Easier said than done with that lot down there,’ Ron pointed out.

With all the house-elves finally overpowered or stunned, all the wizards and witches in the entrance hall were single-mindedly attacking the shield. It was still holding, but only just.

‘Draco Malfoy and friends, you need to capitulate and turn in your wands immediately, otherwise we will be forced to escalate the attack,’ the wizard in brown warned.

‘Can’t do it, sorry,’ Draco told him. ‘You have no right to be here and I refuse to disarm when as far as I’m concerned you are illegal intruders.’

The wizard in brown retorted stiffly, ‘You have broken Ministry laws and therefore have no right to question our legality. Our jurisdiction now falls on this estate, and you and your friends are the illegal ones.’

‘Except that none of us _has_ broken any laws,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘Draco agreed to pay the fine. He and I even worked out which goods were going to be sold to raise the money, but Sylvia Robards, for whatever vindictive reason, seems to have shelved my report in order to raid Malfoy Manor.

‘If she told you that she had asked Draco to hand over the manor willingly and he refused, she’s lying. She hasn’t done anything of the sort. At no point has anyone asked Draco to step aside until you demanded it _after_ breaking in. This attack was completely unprovoked, and as such, you are the ones breaking the law.’

‘The assignment was properly checked and agreed,’ the wizard in brown countered.

‘It can’t have been, otherwise you would never have come,’ Hermione said.

‘The Head of the relevant department contacted us and informed us personally that it was a green light. It was all checked out, as I said.’

Hermione snorted loudly. ‘She lied. I have no idea what her motive is for wanting to seize Malfoy Manor, but she made _no_ effort to recover the money in any other way first. Harry Potter is on his way right now. He’ll confirm that I’m telling you the truth.’

‘We can’t wait around all evening,’ the brown-robed wizard said. ‘Time is money, and we have injured personnel who need treatment. You need to give yourselves up and come with us back to the Ministry of Magic — we’ll sort it out there.’

‘It’s not only your personnel who are injured, though, is it?’ Hermione pointed out angrily. ‘What about all those poor house-elves you’ve hurt who were just trying to protect their _innocent_ master? What sort of treatment will they get after your illegal blunder?’

‘I’m not willing to discuss this any further,’ the wizard in brown announced. ‘Either capitulate now or we will come and get you, and I can’t guarantee that you won’t get hurt.’

‘We’re not giving in. We haven’t done anything wrong,’ Draco asserted.

‘Then I have no choice . . . wizards, attack!’

For what seemed like a lifetime but was only a few minutes, Hermione and the others cast their protection spells, keeping their small box intact as barrage after barrage of spells rained down upon them.

‘Stop the attack!’

Harry had appeared in the entrance hall, waving a piece of parchment in his hand. It took a couple of seconds for anyone to realise he was there and then he was ignored. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply, the sound drawing the attention of the attacking wizards. Once again, he raised the parchment.

‘This is an order on behalf of the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, commanding you to cease your attack on Malfoy Manor and its inhabitants. It overrides any previous orders you may have been given. You are to leave immediately and without fuss. There has been a grievous misunderstanding and Mr Malfoy was incorrectly targeted. There will be a full investigation in due course.’

As the hit wizards stood down and began making their way from the manor, some helping their injured colleagues, Harry walked towards the wizard in the brown robe.

Quietly he told him, ‘I’m sorry, Alfric, but I’m afraid you were badly duped by Sylvia Robards. She had no authority to instigate a raid on Malfoy Manor, not least because Hermione Granger’s report detailing the agreement she and Mr Malfoy had come to over the repayment of the debt was accepted and ratified by Kingsley before the Christmas holiday.

‘The intention is and has always been, that a number of goods identified for sale would be collected by a team from Percy Weasley’s area after the New Year Bank Holiday. It appears that for some reason Ms Robards was not very happy with this outcome and decided to implement something more direct.’

He looked around at the injured wizards and house-elves and sighed, shaking his head unhappily. ‘We’ll need a detailed report of all the injuries sustained here today, on both sides, and all the damage that has been done to Mr Malfoy’s property. I see no reason at all why Ms Robards can’t take full responsibility for it as she was the one who ordered the raid.’

Harry looked up at the group on the stairs who were watching the unfolding events anxiously and waved, smiling.

‘You can come down now,’ he told them. ‘It’s perfectly safe. Alfric and his team are leaving.’

There was a moment’s pause as the defensive shields were dropped and then the quartet went down the stairs to join Harry and Alfric. Hermione and Draco looked around them in dismay at the sight of the injured house-elves.

‘Hermione, this is Alfric Evermonde, leader of the hit wizard team.’

Alfric held out his hand. ‘Miss Granger. My apologies for our earlier interaction. It would appear you were correct.’

Hermione shook his hand but said, ‘I don’t think it’s me you need to apologise to, Mr Evermonde. You and your team have damaged Draco’s house and no doubt his gardens and injured his house-elves for no good reason.’

Looking remorseful, Alfric nodded his agreement. He turned to Draco and attempted to shake his hand, too. ‘I can only offer my most sincere apologies, Mr Malfoy. It isn’t often that we get it wrong, but when we do all we can do is admit our mistake immediately and work with the victim to get everything straightened out as soon as possible.’

‘That’s all very well, but what have you done to my house-elves?’ Draco asked icily.

Alfric looked around him. ‘I think most of them were stunned; certainly, none of them will be dead, I can promise you that. We don’t implement a killing policy with anyone.’

‘They’re going to need treatment,’ Draco pointed out.

Alfric nodded. ‘I will personally go to St Mungo’s right now and arrange for Healers to come and treat your staff. Then I will come back and see what damage I can repair. I can assure you, Mr Malfoy, that we do take our job and its consequences extremely seriously.’

A moment later he Disapparated, leaving only a few hit wizards who were too badly injured to walk, the stunned and injured house-elves, and the group of friends.

‘Are you okay?’ Harry asked Hermione worriedly.

Hermione gave him a small smile. ‘You cut it a bit fine, Harry. I just can’t believe the old cow caused all these people to get hurt.’

‘Don’t worry, she’ll take the blame for it. I’ll make sure of that, as will Alfric, I suspect. Kingsley’s already aware of what she’s done so far, so I think it’s safe to say she won’t be coming back to work in the new year — at least not for long.’

‘I suppose I haven’t got a job anymore either,’ Hermione said mournfully. ‘Sylvia’s still my boss at the moment and when she hears about what went down here tonight—’

‘Well, she could try to get rid of you but I don’t think Kingsley would be very happy about that. You’ve got a lot of work to get finished on Draco’s case . . . and someone’s going to need to run your department when Sylvia is dismissed. I understand you’re currently extremely short-staffed in there,’ Harry pointed out. He frowned. ‘Why didn’t you leave like I told you to? You did get my Patronus, didn’t you?’

Hermione sighed. ‘Yes, I did — and only just in time, too. I can’t believe it took me so long to work out that the owls couldn’t get into the grounds because of the protection spells. If only I’d realised yesterday or the day before.’

‘But even if you had you would have been just as unprepared for the attack today because we didn’t know about it until just before it happened. In fact, if you’d received my owl about my chat with Kingsley you would never have expected an attack at all. But you still haven’t answered my question, Hermione. Why didn’t you leave like I told you to? I knew you wouldn’t leave without a bit of coercion but that’s why I sent Ron along. I was sure he would get you out one way or another.’

‘You know why,’ Hermione said quietly, trying not to look at him. ‘I couldn’t leave Draco on his own to fight off that lot. It wasn’t fair, and—’

Harry hugged her. ‘Does he know?’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. I certainly haven’t said anything.’

‘And how does he feel about you?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I know he likes my company — that’s a start, isn’t it?’

Harry chuckled. ‘It is when you think back to how we were at school.’

‘I need to return to work, don’t I?’ Hermione said, sounding disappointed.

‘You should. The EPT still think you’ve got the flu. No one’s told them anything different, and if anyone mentions you being here this evening I can always tell them I dragged you out of your sick bed to help, as you were the one who did all the prior work on Draco’s case.’

Hermione sighed wistfully. Harry studied her for a few seconds.

‘I’ll tell you what. How about you stay here and help Draco sort things out with the estate and his house-elves — I know you’ll only worry about them otherwise. I’ll tell the EPT that I had to drag you out of bed for this job and you were still looking so ill that I told you to go home and not to come back into work until Monday. How does that sound?’

Hermione grabbed him and hugged him tightly. Much happier, she whispered, ‘Thank you, Harry.’

‘You need to sort things out with Draco, though,’ Harry warned. ‘I’m not putting up with months of you mooning around after him like an idiot — all that does he like me or not crap.’

Hermione grinned. ‘Don’t worry. By the time he’s paid his debt it will all be sorted out one way or another.’

Harry’s expression said that he wasn’t sure he believed her, but Hermione just shrugged and then turned away to go and check on the closest house-elf.


	7. Chapter 7

‘I really want to thank you for all your help today, Hermione,’ Draco said.

Now that everyone had finally gone they were sitting in the drawing room, where a fire was blazing in the grate and the Christmas tree was twinkling, casting a soft glow over the room.

‘I’m just glad no one was seriously hurt,’ Hermione told him, ‘and it was nice of you to let the house-elves rest after everything they’ve been through.’

‘I think Malfoy Manor can manage without them for one evening,’ Draco allowed with a smile. ‘Although we might go hungry. It was too early for them to have dinner prepared before the attack came.’

Hermione looked at him with amusement. ‘I assume you can’t cook, then?’

Draco shook his head. ‘Never needed to learn. I was always at school or here. Why would I learn to cook when I’ve got people to do it for me?’

‘So entitled,’ Hermione murmured, shaking her head, but she smiled as she said it. ‘I’m sure I’ll be able to find something. If you don’t mind me going in your kitchen, that is.’

Draco’s face lit up at her words. ‘Can you cook?’

Hermione nodded. ‘I’m not gourmet or anything but I’m sure I can make us something to tide us over. I’ll go and see what’s available.’

She stood up. Draco got to his feet too.

‘Do you need a hand?’ he asked.

Hermione studied him for a moment. ‘I wouldn’t want the Lord of the Manor to get his hands dirty doing any actual work. Perhaps you should just wait in here and a read a book or something.’

Draco’s face twisted with a grimace. ‘I said I can’t cook, not that I’m not willing to give it a go. If I can be of assistance I will be more than happy to help you.’

‘Come on, then. Let’s go and see what there is. With any luck the house-elves might have already prepared some dishes in advance so there won’t be much work to do,’ Hermione said with a smile.

As they walked towards the kitchen Hermione surveyed the house around her. Fortunately, the hit wizards hadn’t done too much damage to the interior of the manor, and earlier Alfric and another specialist he brought back with him had repaired the broken front door while the Healers attended to the house-elves and the remaining injured wizards. But there were still signs of deterioration here and there, the slow, encroaching decay that Hermione had noticed ever since she first arrived, and she wasn’t sure that it hadn’t got worse over the last few days.

‘What are you looking at?’ Draco asked.

‘I’ve noticed that some parts of the house are looking pretty dilapidated,’ she admitted.

‘It’s an extremely old house,’ Draco said a little defensively.

‘I wasn’t complaining, just answering your question,’ Hermione said. She debated taking the conversation further but knew it would just cause another argument because it would touch on Draco’s finances, a thorny subject at the best of times, and that was the last thing she wanted at the moment.

They entered the kitchen and Hermione headed for the fridge as Draco sat down at the kitchen table. She opened it, pleased to discover that there was a wide selection of items available to her. She wasn’t just limited to the vegetables that were grown on the estate, plentiful and varied though they were. Maybe they weren’t quite so self-sufficient after all.

‘How hungry are you?’ she asked Draco.

He wrinkled his nose and admitted, ‘Not all that hungry. To be honest, I think it’s the aftermath of the stress of what happened earlier.’

‘So how about a mushroom and cheese omelette? That’s quite light. There’s some salad in here, too, which we can have with it, and I’m sure there will be some bread around somewhere, probably in the pantry.’

‘An omelette would be wonderful,’ Draco said, smiling. ‘So what wine goes best with that, do you think?’

Hermione shook her head as she pulled the carton of eggs from the fridge. ‘A cup of tea would probably go down better right at the moment. Do you know how to make that?’

Draco gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘I’m sure I can manage to make us some tea.’

Hermione bit her lip, trying not to look unconvinced, but didn’t say anything else as she retrieved more food from the fridge and placed it on a large island over by the stove. She looked around, trying to judge where she would find cooking implements and crockery, assisted by Draco who was opening cupboards seemingly at random, searching for the tea things.

She walked over to the stove and picked up the kettle, taking it to the sink to fill with water and putting it on to boil as he continued searching, then headed for the pantry. She emerged a minute later carrying a loaf of bread and a tea caddy. She put the bread on the table and passed the tea to Draco.

‘Here you go.’

He stared at it for a moment as if he had no idea what she had just given him.

Hermione sighed and took it back. ‘You wash and slice the mushrooms, Draco, and I’ll make the tea.’

‘Sorry. I really am completely hopeless, aren’t I?’ Draco said, sounding embarrassed. There was a pink tinge to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before.

‘You just have no experience of having to fend for yourself, that’s all. It’s not a problem,’ Hermione said kindly.

She provided him with a knife and the mushrooms, then found the teapot, the crockery, and the frying pan. The kettle was boiling so she removed it from the stove and rinsed out the teapot before adding the tea leaves and water, then she put it on the table to steep and went to find mugs and retrieve the milk from the fridge.

‘How do you know all this stuff?’ Draco asked as he watched Hermione move around the room collecting cooking equipment and organising the meal.

Hermione broke eggs into a bowl, added salt and pepper, then began to whisk them with a fork.

Plainly and without any trace of bitterness, she told him, ‘I grew up in a family without servants. I had to do my fair share of the chores during the holidays when I was at home and that included learning to cook. Since I left school and started work I’ve had to fend for myself because there’s no one else to do it for me.’

‘I always thought you and Weasley would end up married with loads of children, spending all your time at the Burrow being looked after by Mrs Weasley,’ Draco admitted.

Hermione gave a small chuckle. ‘We did get together briefly at the end of the war but it didn’t take long for either of us to realise that we’re not really suited as a couple. Both Ron and Harry are like my brothers — annoying brothers. I love them both dearly, but I can’t imagine having to spend the rest of my life in constant close proximity to either of them again. It would slowly drive me mad. That ten months on the run was more than enough for me.’

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment as if debating whether to say something else. Casually he asked, ‘So, is there anyone else? A boyfriend or—’

Hermione quickly put him out of his misery. ‘No, no one at the moment. I’d have thought that was obvious from the fact that I’m here over Christmas rather than elsewhere.’

‘I thought you came back because you felt guilty about breaking your promise,’ Draco retorted.

Hermione ignored him for a moment as she put the egg for the first of the omelettes in the pan and then went to the table to collect the mushrooms Draco had sliced.

‘I told you I wanted to spend Christmas with you — it wasn’t just because I promised. Anyway, I would never have agreed in the first place if I wanted to spend it elsewhere. Do you want to set the table? The food will be ready shortly.’

Draco looked surprised at the request but nodded as Hermione returned to the stove. Once the second omelette was cooked she carried the two plates over to the table. Draco had managed to find cutlery and napkins but the table looked bare compared to the usual extensive layout in the dining room. She placed a plate in front of him and put hers down by the seat Draco had chosen for her, then returned to the island to collect the bowl of salad she had prepared while the omelettes were cooking.

‘That smells really nice. I think I’m pretty hungry now,’ Draco said as she sat down. ‘Thank you, Hermione.’

Hermione grinned. ‘As I said, it’s nothing special but it’ll do until the real chef's return. Can you cut me some bread, please?’

Draco picked up the bread knife to carve them both thick slices of bread as Hermione picked up the teapot and poured the dark liquid into the two mugs and added some milk.

‘You don’t mind eating in here, do you?’ Hermione asked. ‘I know you’re used to the dining room but it seemed a bit pointless to cart it all in there when there’s a perfectly good table here.’

Draco looked around him for a moment and grinned. ‘No, actually I quite like it. It’s not so formal . . . it’s quite cosy.’

‘Well, if you ever come to my place it’ll be even less formal — you’ll be eating off a tray on your lap in the lounge. I didn’t bother to get a dining table as I’m on my own most of the time, and the kitchen isn’t big enough for a table. Actually, the lounge isn’t either, really. I think my flat could best be described as compact and bijou — and I’m not totally convinced about the bijou bit.’

Hermione suddenly realised what she had just said and cringed. She couldn’t believe she had just tried to invite a documented recluse to leave his home and join her for a meal although to be fair, the idea of curling up on the sofa with Draco was quite a pleasant one.

‘I have to admit I’m rather intrigued to see what your flat looks like,’ Draco admitted, apparently not thinking anything of her faux pas. ‘Where is it located?’

‘It’s not all that far from Diagon Alley and within walking distance of the Ministry of Magic, but it’s not exactly the nicest part of wizarding London. It’s really expensive to live there but quite useful for a singleton working odd hours,’ Hermione told him. She poured herself another cup of tea. ‘There’s still some Christmas pudding in the fridge. If you want me to put it on to heat up let me know. It’ll take about an hour to cook through.’

Draco looked extremely happy at this revelation. ‘Christmas pudding would be wonderful. You put it on to cook and I’ll go and sort us out some port to go with it.’

Hermione picked up the empty plates and took them to the sink.

‘You can leave them for the house-elves to do,’ Draco told her.

‘No, it’s okay. It’ll only take me a couple of minutes to wash up,’ Hermione said. ‘I’ll put the pudding on first, though.’

She put the remnants of the salad back into the fridge and retrieved the Christmas pudding. After making sure it was properly covered and sealed she put it into a pan of water on the stove and put the lid on. Then she returned to the sink and filled it with hot water and washing-up liquid. As she began to wash the dishes Draco came to join her, picking up a tea towel.

‘Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?’ Hermione ventured cautiously.

Draco quipped, ‘I’m young, free and single if that’s what you want to know, Hermione.’

‘Well . . . that’s good to know, but actually, I wanted to ask about your becoming a recluse. You were always so extroverted at school — gregarious even. What happened to make you lock yourself away from the world for ten years?’

Draco frowned and dropped the tea towel onto the worktop. Silently, he went back to sit at the kitchen table and stared intently at the wooden surface.

‘I’m sorry, Draco,’ Hermione said quietly, joining him once she had finished clearing up. ‘I didn’t mean to be nosey. Just forget I asked, okay?’

‘There were a lot of reasons, but mainly a few things came up at the same time and I couldn’t face having to deal with all the crap I was getting from everyone. It was easier to run away and hide like a coward.’ Draco’s voice was low and gruff as if talking was difficult.

Hermione considered his response for a couple of seconds and then said, ‘I don’t think you were a coward. I think you’d just reached your limit and needed some time out. It must have been so hard for you losing both your parents in quick succession like that; no one would blame you for wanting time to grieve.’

‘You managed it okay,’ Draco retorted bitterly. ‘You lost both your parents too, but you didn’t go loopy and lock yourself away.’

‘No. Instead, I went to help Harry defeat Voldemort and I was pretty sure it was going to kill me. And do you know what? At the time, I couldn’t have cared less if it had. I wanted Harry to win, of course I did, but I really wasn’t bothered as to whether I’d still be there to see it or not,’ Hermione admitted, her voice hard. Softening it a little, she continued, ‘I survived the war, but I won’t lie — it’s been really tough over the years and I’ve only got through it because I was lucky enough to have extremely good friends who have supported me all the way. As I recall, you were pretty much alone after the war so it would have been far more difficult for you to navigate the massive changes you had to face. So don’t you dare put yourself down for your choice, because it could have been so much worse.’

‘Hermione, I’m sorry,’ Draco said sincerely.

‘Nothing to be sorry about,’ Hermione retorted shortly. ‘Just know that whatever choices you made weren’t the wrong ones and you weren’t a coward.’

Draco took hold of Hermione’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Thank you.’

Hermione took a deep breath. ‘I was wondering whether I could lure you outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. Not necessarily to my flat, but you don’t have to stay locked away here on your own anymore if you don’t want to.’

Draco shook his head sadly. ‘I’m sorry, Hermione but I can’t. Please don’t ask me why, because I won’t explain, but I have to stay here.’

‘But I don’t understand why you can’t. You know I like you, and you got on okay with Harry and Ron. You were getting on well enough with George, too.’

Draco released her hand. ‘It doesn’t have anything to do with friends or lack of them. I told you, I’m not going to talk about it.’

Needing to break the sudden tension that had built up between them, Hermione stood up and walked over to the stove to check the steaming pudding. Happy to see that it was almost ready, she went to the fridge to get out the brandy butter and collected two bowls and spoons. When she turned back to the table Draco was gone.

She sat down with a sigh and put her head in her hands, wishing she hadn’t broached the subject of Draco’s reclusiveness. Once again, she had misjudged the situation, thinking things were more companionable between them than they actually were, and as with every other time and completely without meaning to, she had severely upset Draco.  

‘I’ve got the port.’

Hermione looked up to see Draco standing at the table holding a dusty bottle.

‘Where do you think the glasses are kept?’ he asked mildly.

‘I don’t know.’ Hermione looked around her, then pointed. ‘I’d try one of the cupboards over there, one of the top ones.’

Draco eventually found the glasses and brought them back to the table. He opened the bottle of port and sat down as Hermione dished up the Christmas pudding, not daring to say anything in case she set Draco off again.

‘I’m sorry if I upset you, Hermione,’ he said as he poured the drinks.

‘No, _I’m_ sorry, Draco. I always seem to mess up even though I don’t mean to. It’s probably best if we change the subject completely.’

They ate their pudding in silence, then, apparently taking Hermione at her word, Draco suggested, ‘Shall we move back to the drawing room? It’s more comfortable in there.’

‘Yes. I like it in there with the Christmas tree twinkling away. It’s comforting,’ Hermione told him.

Draco smiled and stood up, picking up the bottle of port. Hermione followed him a few minutes later once she had washed up the dessert things. When she reached the drawing room she settled onto the sofa, Draco having already taken a seat in his usual armchair.

‘That Alfric bloke said your boss is going to get the blame for what happened earlier,’ he said conversationally once he had made sure their glasses were full.

Hermione snorted. ‘So she should. If she’d just accepted my report in the first place no one would have got hurt and there wouldn’t need to be a big inquiry involving three departments. The best bit is that the bullying will cease . . . maybe Daphne will work better and make fewer mistakes without the old cow looking over her shoulder all the time.’

‘Do you know who will take over?’ Draco asked.

Hermione shook her head. ‘Not yet. I assume the job will be advertised at some point although they’ll probably wait until after the inquiry, once they’re sure all the facts have come out.’

‘Will you apply? I assume you’ll be questioned about what happened.’

‘Harry told me that Kingsley suggested I take over the helm temporarily while the investigation is ongoing. I guess that will be long enough for me to decide whether I want the job permanently or not. As for the inquiry, I think I’m going to have quite a lot to say. I don’t think they’re going to want to know about only your case — and I had over a year of Sylvia giving me all sorts of crap, as did the others. She’s definitely not coming out of it well.

‘The one thing I was wondering about was whether Sylvia had any connection to your family — particularly your father. I know she didn’t like me and was inclined to be vindictive, but what she did to you was particularly foul, too much so to just be because of her dislike of me, surely?’

Draco snorted. ‘Who knows, with my father? Let’s face it, he had his fingers in so many pies he could easily have crossed her somewhere along the way. Nothing about him would surprise me any longer.’

Hermione was surprised at the venom in Draco’s tone as he discussed his father, something she would never have expected considering the way he had idolised the man during their school years. Obviously, something had happened in the intervening years to drive a wedge between them, but she knew better than to ask. She already knew that it would be another of those things he wouldn’t talk about and she had no desire to upset him again today.

Eventually, Draco placed his empty glass on the small table next to the port bottle and stood up, stretching.

‘I’m feeling pretty tired. I guess the events of earlier have caught up with me . . . and the port, of course.’ He indicated the half-empty bottle with a grin. ‘Time for bed, I think. I expect you’re tired, too, aren’t you? Especially when we’ve got an early start. I made sure the house-elves are aware, so you don’t need to worry. You’ll get a decent breakfast before you leave.’

Hermione’s heart sank as she suddenly remembered that with all the running around in the aftermath of the invasion she hadn’t told Draco about Harry arranging for her to stay at Malfoy Manor for another two days. He thought she was going back to work in the morning.

‘I don’t have to—’ she began, but Draco was already walking towards the door.

‘See you in the morning, Hermione,’ he said.

Then with a wave he was gone, leaving her alone and suddenly feeling more miserable than she had done all day.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco was already in the dining room when Hermione came down to breakfast. He smiled at her as she joined him at the table but Hermione was certain it was as fake as the one she returned.

‘Morning, sleepyhead. You really were tired, weren’t you? Did you forget you were abandoning me for that blighted hell-hole, the Ministry of Magic, today?’

Hermione picked up a slice of toast and began to butter it as Draco poured her a cup of tea.

‘No, I didn’t forget, but I did forget to mention that Harry gave me permission to return to work on Monday rather than today.’

Hermione bit her bottom lip anxiously as she awaited Draco’s response, not entirely sure what it was going to be. Her heart beat faster as he stared at her, an expression of delight crossing his face at the news, but it soon faded to be replaced by concern.

‘But don’t you need to go in to sort things out in your department?’ he asked, sounding a little confused. ‘You’re the boss now, aren’t you, and after yesterday there must be loads of things that need sorting out.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I’m still officially working for the EPT until Monday, then I take over Sylvia’s role — they’ll be suspending her on Monday morning as she doesn’t work weekends, and I think she was going away to spend time with her family over the holidays so they probably can’t get hold of her, anyway. That’s why Harry said I could stay here — if you don’t mind me staying on. I can always start work on packing up the items that need to be shipped out if you want me to earn my keep.’

‘Of course I’m happy for you to stay — the longer the better as far as I’m concerned,’ Draco told her, but his less than enthusiastic tone belied his words and Hermione’s heart sank a little.

They ate in silence and Hermione could feel the tension rising between them. She felt she needed to say something before Draco walked out on her, leaving her unsure of whether he really did want her to stay or not, but before she had a chance he rose and headed for the door.

Given no choice, Hermione jumped up and went after him, catching up with him in the entrance hall. He looked surprised as she called his name, trying to get him to stop. 

‘Look, Draco, if you’d rather I left I can go this morning as originally arranged,’ Hermione told him despondently.

‘No — no, stay. I want you to stay,’ Draco insisted.

Hermione surveyed him carefully. ‘Are you sure? You don’t seem like you want me to stay. I know you’re saying it but your manner says the opposite, and I really don’t want to outstay my welcome.’

Draco was silent for a few long seconds, then he told her quietly, ‘I really want you to stay, Hermione.’ He paused for a moment, then admitted, ‘But the longer you stay the harder it is to let you go.’

Hermione stared at him in astonishment, her heart banging like a drum at his words.

‘I don’t want to go,’ she told him honestly. ‘I want to stay with you.’

‘What?’ Draco seemed completely stunned by her response.

Hermione closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath and admitted, ‘I want to stay here with you. I don’t really care about the job, not at the moment. I just want to be with you.’

Draco moved towards her, close enough that they could touch.

‘Do you know what you’re saying?’ he asked.

Hermione nodded. ‘I’m in love with you.’

‘Please, Hermione, you can’t say things like that — it’s not fair.’ Draco sounded upset.

Hermione moved the final step between them.

‘I love you, Draco Malfoy,’ she told him.

Then she kissed him.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Draco wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as he returned the kiss. As they broke apart Hermione saw that his eyes were full of tears.

‘Hermione.’

He pulled her close and kissed her again, making Hermione feel light-headed and dizzy, and a bubbly champagne feeling inside her threatened to erupt.

‘Oh gods, I am so in love with you,’ Draco told her.

Hermione had no idea what was happening between them but she was enjoying the kisses and wasn’t inclined to stop, especially if Draco was admitting to being in love with her, too. They kissed again and then Draco held her tightly, squeezing her for a few heartbeats before releasing her.

‘You’ve done it! Thank you so much, my love,’ Draco said, grabbing her hands. The tears Hermione had seen in his eyes had been released and ran down his cheeks as he beamed happily at her.

Hermione was confused. She had no idea what she had done although she got the impression that whatever it was it was a good thing. Draco seemed to recognise that she had no clue what was going on and laughed through his tears.

‘Look around,’ he announced.

Hermione gave him a sideways glance, wondering if she had pushed him over the edge and he had finally lost his sanity. Still holding her hand, Draco lifted his own to indicate around the room. She looked, her breath catching as she understood what Draco was showing her. The once dilapidated room was now immaculate, looking as if it had been freshly decorated. As she stared around she wondered if the whole house had changed, trying to work out what had happened.

Draco was pulling her towards the drawing room so Hermione followed him, eager to see if the signs of decay were gone from one of her favourite rooms. Sure enough, the place was pristine, the colours of the room so much brighter than she ever remembered them. It was almost as if she was in a different house.

Draco pulled her down to sit on the sofa, a fervid gleam in his eye now.

‘I don’t understand,’ Hermione told him.

‘You did it,’ Draco told her jubilantly. ‘You broke the curse.’

Hermione stared at him not sure she had heard him correctly.

‘When you say _curse_ . . . ?’

‘I mean that my father didn’t just bequeath me his fortune before he went to Azkaban,’ Draco explained sourly. ‘He was furious that the Ministry of Magic were trying to force him to pay compensation and he was determined it wasn’t going to happen. But the only way he could do that was to pass it all to me. There was no point in giving it to Mother, she was already seriously ill and we knew she wasn’t going to last much longer.

‘Unfortunately, my conduct during the war led my father to conclude that I was a blood traitor so he really didn’t want me to end up as the beneficiary of the Malfoy estate. But, of course, he had no choice, me being the only heir and the only remaining living relative apart from my mother. So, he transferred everything to me but he also placed a curse upon me, one that gave him revenge for what he thought of as my treachery.’

Hermione thought of Draco living all alone in a slowly decaying house for the last decade and suddenly she knew what Lucius had done to his son.

‘The curse was an old one, simple but extremely effective. I would get everything — the house, the grounds, all the wealth that belonged to the Malfoy family — but I would also be trapped on the Malfoy estate, unable to leave or tell anyone what had happened to me, appearing to everyone to be some reclusive coward until I was freed by my true love’s kiss like some bloody fairy tale.’

Draco sounded bitter as he continued. ‘Of course, being my father, he didn’t leave it at that. No, of course not. We couldn’t have just any old true love, no. It had to be a Muggle or a Muggle-born — to punish me for my so-called blood traitor tendencies.

‘Then, as if he hadn’t already completely fucked up my life, he dug in the knife and twisted it some more. The estate would begin to decay, year after year, and I would be able to do nothing to rectify it. Spending money wouldn’t work, as it was part of the curse. The only thing that could reverse the effect was — yep, you’ve guessed it — true love. That magical kiss would solve everything.’

‘As you can imagine, I was not overly optimistic about my chances. The Malfoy family name was at its nadir and no one wanted to know me, not even the purebloods, so what chance did I ever have of attracting a Muggle-born, particularly after the way I had always treated the ones I knew at school? I already knew a Muggle was completely out of the question as the concealment charms make us invisible to them; it’s been years since one has come any closer to the property than that public footpath outside.

‘Meanwhile, my mother was fading fast and there was nothing I could do to help her except try to make her final days as comfortable as possible. Once she died I was so depressed by the whole situation that I locked down the manor almost completely. I didn’t want to see anyone; didn’t know how or have the energy to break the curse my father had placed upon me. And I’ll be honest, I felt incredibly sorry for myself.’

‘Unable to leave the estate, I couldn’t keep control of the finances as I was unable to visit the business investments and the Goblins at Gringotts do not like to travel nor are they happy to do business via owl. I half-suspected that my father had put some sort of curse on that part of my life, too. Nothing I tried was profitable and the money steadily drained away, disappearing faster and faster as the years went on until there was nothing left but an almost empty vault.

‘Which was when the Ministry won their bloody Wizengamot case and suddenly I found myself having to provide money that I no longer had to pay for the father who had completely shafted me. Perhaps you can understand now why I wasn’t awfully keen to acknowledge the debt.’

Hermione, who had been listening in growing horror and disbelief to Draco’s tale, said, ‘I can’t believe your father did that to you. I know he was supposed to be “evil” and didn’t like Muggle-borns, but what he did to you, his own flesh and blood — that’s absolutely horrific.’

Draco, who was wiping his eyes to remove the last few tears that were still trailing down his face, gave a snort of derision.

‘You obviously missed what I said the other day about the Malfoy family being single-minded in everything they do and how they’ll use any means available to them, _regardless of how terrible it is_ , to achieve their ends, Hermione. Don’t you remember the earlier Lucius Malfoy who hexed the Queen of England because she wouldn’t marry him?’

‘I thought that was just one of those stories handed down through generations that only had a hint of truth in it and had been aggrandised to make it more interesting,’ Hermione admitted.

Draco snorted again. ‘Not in our family. Every nasty thing we’re ever reputed to have done is true. In fact, if anything it’s probably been underplayed to make us sound nicer than we actually were. Once I had been stuck here for a few years I finally came to the conclusion that my father had probably done a good thing — without meaning to, of course. If I died, alone here, then there wouldn’t be any further Malfoys to wreak havoc on the world.’

‘But you’re not like that,’ Hermione insisted. ‘I know you were a bit of an idiot at school because you idolised your father, but when it really counted you didn’t take the easy path, the path he expected you to take. You knew what they wanted you to do was wrong and you defied them. That’s why he punished you — for doing the right thing. So don’t you dare tell me the world is better off without you, Draco Malfoy because that’s that complete and utter rubbish.’

‘I think you must be seeing me through rose-tinted spectacles, Hermione. I was a bit more than an idiot — I was a bloody Death Eater, for Merlin’s sake.’

‘Not really. I know you took the Dark Mark but I don’t believe your heart was ever really in it, was it? Harry told me what happened with Professor Dumbledore, how you were about to let him go and I saw for myself how you tried to help us, in the only way you could, when we were trapped here with your father and your aunt. You refused to identify us when everyone knew that you knew who we were.

‘But then your mother was the same, wasn’t she? She helped Harry when he needed it most and it could have got her killed. If it wasn’t for her he might never have been able to defeat Voldemort. I think you take after your mother far more than your father. Just because you look like him doesn’t mean you are him, and I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if you were like him. He’s a horrible man who’s exactly where he deserves to be, especially for what he did to you,’ Hermione retorted, annoyed now.

Draco stared at her, shaking his head as if in disbelief. ‘I really can’t believe you’ve fallen in love with me, Hermione. I’ve no idea how I got that lucky . . . but it must be true because the curse has broken.’

‘Why should me being in love with you be any more surprising than you being in love with me? I assume you didn’t just say that because I’m Muggle-born and you were hoping it would break the curse,’ Hermione demanded.

Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, kissing her gently on the lips.

‘Of course not. That wouldn’t have worked, anyway. The spell would only break if we were both truly in love — and to answer your other question, you’re far easier to love than I am. You’ve always had that innate goodness about you, a willingness to fight injustice and give people the benefit of the doubt.

‘Look at the way you came here, even after what happened with my aunt, and you were willing to work with me to find a way to pay the debt despite all the nasty things I did and said to you at school. You didn’t have to do that. You could have acted the same way your boss did, but instead, you came here and helped me.

‘When your boss stepped in and took over, what did you do? You came back and stayed to fight even though you knew you might lose your job in the process. You even tried to protect me by risking your own life. How could I not fall in love with you after all that?

‘—especially when I think I was already a bit in love with you from school, anyway — not that I would _ever_ have admitted that at the time.’

‘Why do you think I came back?’ Hermione said. ‘It was because I was in love with you. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to spend Christmas with you — there was nothing I wanted more. I was actually supposed to be going to the Burrow, but I said I wasn’t doing anything because I didn’t want you to send me away out of some stupid sense of duty.’

‘I am so glad you came back,’ Draco admitted, ‘and not just because of the curse, either.’

‘Now I understand why your house-elf didn’t want me to leave the first time I came here,’ Hermione said.

Draco looked confused.

‘I had a feeling you didn’t know about that, although I couldn’t work out how it could beg me to stay when you had told me to leave, and in no uncertain terms, too. I know house-elves have a problem going against the direct orders of their masters, especially ones that have been indentured as long as yours have. Normally, it should have been attempting to punish itself for what it was saying, but it wasn’t.

‘Now I understand that it wanted me to stay because it thought I could break the curse and that was what you wanted, too, although you couldn’t say anything — and you were still rightly annoyed with me and weren’t ready to forgive me. But the one thing I don’t understand is why your mother’s room was still perfect. There wasn’t any sign of decay in there.’

‘That was my mother,’ Draco said quietly. ‘She heard the curse my father put on me and she was determined it wasn’t going to affect her rooms. Knowing that my father was working towards leaving me destitute, she was determined to preserve her share of the wealth so that if I ever managed to break the curse there would be something left for me to inherit.

‘She put a strong counter-charm on the rooms that meant they would stay untouched by my father’s curse as long as no one but her went in there. That’s why I made it off-limits — I knew that if you went in there the spell would be broken and it would start to decay in the same way as the rest of the house and the treasures within would begin to disappear like the gold in the Gringott’s vault.’

‘But then I ignored you and went in there anyway and broke the protection charm. No wonder you were so angry with me. I’m _so_ sorry, Draco,’ Hermione said in dismay.

‘I was really furious with you at the time, but then I realised that nothing I could have done would have stopped you going in there sooner or later. You would have insisted on it so you could tell the Ministry of Magic that you’d done your job properly.’

‘But why did you take me in there again?’ Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. ‘The protection charm was broken by that time so there wasn’t anything to lose. I wanted to see it again, too, wanted to feel my mother at a time when I was feeling so despondent, was convinced the curse was never going to end, and I had just lost the one thing that was keeping me going. I hadn’t been in the rooms since before her death and had forgotten how beautiful it was in there. But I could already see the first signs of deterioration, even that quickly. It was heartbreaking.’

‘That was why you were so upset,’ Hermione said, understanding now, and she rubbed Draco’s arm soothingly. ‘I didn’t see any deterioration, though.’

Draco sighed. ‘It was there, just beginning to show. I rushed you out before you noticed it. I couldn’t risk you questioning me about it because you knew the place had been immaculate the first time you entered and it had only been a few hours. I couldn’t explain to you about that any more than I could tell you anything else about the curse.’

‘So will it have been reversed there, like the rest of the house?’ Hermione asked anxiously.

‘I assume so.’

‘Do you want to go and check?’ Hermione suggested.

Draco shook his head. ‘No. I want to kiss you again. There hasn’t been enough kissing so far, and I’ve imagined kissing you so many times that I feel I’m missing out.’

‘Yes, please,’ Hermione whispered happily as she pulled him to her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione lay on the sofa, stretched out with her head in Draco’s lap, her eyes closed as he stroked her hair. They had recently finished dinner and were relaxing with a glass of port, enjoying the peace and quiet of the evening. Ever since they had admitted their love for each other the couple had been almost inseparable, not wanting to be apart for more than a few minutes.

Unfortunately, Hermione knew it couldn’t last. Since the ending of Lucius’ curse Draco seemed to think everything had changed, and although he hadn’t said anything to her directly she was sure that he thought her comment about wanting to stay with him meant she intended to do so regardless of her job.   

But the weekend was almost over and she was going to have to return to work tomorrow whether she wanted to or not. Despite telling Draco she didn’t care about her job, Hermione knew that wasn’t entirely true. If nothing else, her sense of duty meant she had to return so she could make sure her colleagues were okay, and she had to give her statement about the raid on Malfoy Manor and all the other things Sylvia had done.

Maybe she wouldn’t take on the role Kingsley had suggested, and maybe she would be able to return to Malfoy Manor within a few weeks if she decided to hand in her notice, but she was definitely going to have to leave tomorrow and she wasn’t sure how to break it to Draco without upsetting him.

‘Would you like another drink?’ he asked, looking down at her.

Hermione, who had opened her eyes, shook her head and gave a small sigh. ‘No, thanks. I really need to keep a clear head. That port is quite heavy. It’ll give me a headache if I drink too much of it.’

‘I can always get a house-elf to bring us something else,’ he suggested.

‘No, I’ll be fine. I might have a hot chocolate later.’

‘With brandy?’ Draco smiled.

Hermione smiled back at him. ‘Maybe, if I’m going to bed straight afterwards.’

‘I’m up for an early night if you are,’ Draco proposed, his tone lascivious as he gave her a cheeky wink.

‘I could probably be persuaded,’ Hermione admitted.

Draco leant down to kiss her. ‘In that case—‘

He kissed her again, moving them so they were now both laying on the sofa.

‘I was thinking about tomorrow,’ he said once their snogging session had concluded, at least for the moment.

‘It’s Monday,’ Hermione said helpfully.

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, I know that, clever clogs. What I meant was I was thinking about what we’re going to do tomorrow.’

Hermione stiffened a little, knowing she should tell him about work before Draco suggested something she would much rather do than go to the Ministry of Magic. But lying there enjoying his arms around her and the wonderful kisses, she was having trouble speaking.

‘I was thinking it might be time for me to leave Malfoy Manor,’ Draco said. ‘After all, I’ve been here for over ten years — a change of scenery might be nice for once. To be honest, it’s actually a bit scary, the thought of going outside, but with you with me, Hermione, I should be okay.’

Hermione felt her heart constrict as she thought of having to dash his hopes. She was fairly certain that Draco wouldn’t want his first excursion into the outside world to be to the imposing halls of the Ministry of Magic, even if they were lighter and more inclusive with Kingsley at the helm than they had been under previous regimes.

‘Draco, I—’

Draco kissed her, then said, ‘I know you’re worried about me, Hermione, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m not really talking about immersing myself in a place crowded with hundreds of wizards, like Diagon Alley. I was thinking of starting with something a little less traumatic. I seem to recall you inviting me for dinner at your flat. I thought we could start with that, maybe after you finish work tomorrow evening, and then perhaps we could go for a walk after dinner?’

‘You remembered I have to work tomorrow,’ Hermione said, sounding relieved. ‘I thought maybe—’

‘—I thought you wouldn’t go back because you prefer me to your job,’ Draco finished. He chuckled. ‘While I can understand why you might want to spend all your time with me — because I am an impressive specimen of a man — I realise you have work to do, particularly with the investigation about to start, so I can’t commandeer all your time, as much as I’d be happy to. Anyway, what would poor Daphne do without you there to look after her?’

‘I was thinking of turning down the supervisor post,’ Hermione admitted.

Draco looked nonplussed. ‘Why would you do that? I thought you were going to use the time to decide whether or not you wanted to apply for it permanently.’

‘I was, but maybe I’ll have better things to do. Perhaps I don’t need to work at the Ministry of Magic any longer,’ Hermione told him.

‘What do you want to do instead?’ Draco asked interestedly.

Hermione shrugged and said, ‘I don’t know. But if you’re going to be joining the world again you might have plans that make working there difficult for me.’

‘Not in the short term. It’s going to take me a while to get back into the swing of things, so you’ve got plenty of time to try out being boss to see if it suits you. I know you were fed up with the place but it’ll be completely different now that Sylvia’s gone.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Hermione agreed, a touch reluctantly.

Draco grinned and gave her a big squeeze. ‘Anyway, I’ve got a far more selfish reason for keeping you working. I want to make sure my case is properly dealt with. No disrespect, Hermione, but I don’t trust any of those Ministry bods to handle it correctly without you there to check up on them. What if they give my case to Daphne or something?’

Hermione chuckled. ‘Okay, you’ve convinced me. It’s back to the grindstone tomorrow for me.’

‘There is another reason I want you to go back,’ Draco said, his voice more serious now. ‘You might not be spiteful . . . but I am. I want to make sure your boss gets everything she deserves, and you need to be there to make sure that happens. For what she did to me, if not for yourself.’

Hermione kissed him. ‘You don’t have to worry about that. Everyone I know will be working to sort her out. Harry was so angry about what she did to you that he’s pushing to have her prosecuted. If that happens she might well end up in Azkaban.’

‘Perhaps she’ll be housed near my father and the two of them can bitch together about how much they despise me,’ Draco retorted bitterly.

‘I wouldn’t worry about it. You don’t need those sorts of people in your life. They only drag you down,’ Hermione told him.

Draco brightened. ‘True. Actually, the only person I need in my life is you, Hermione.’

They kissed again.

‘So, you want to come to my flat for dinner tomorrow; after I’ve been at work all day?’ Hermione asked.

‘Yes. I’m looking forward to seeing this compact space you’ve been talking about.’

‘Okay. That’s fine, but I won’t have time to cook so it’ll have to be a takeaway. I’ll pick it up on the way home,’ Hermione mused. ‘What time were you thinking of coming and how are you getting there?’

‘What time do you want me?’ Draco asked. He was grinning in a louche manner. ‘Do you want to stick your head through the Floo and give me a call when you’re ready?’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I don’t have a Floo connection in my flat — no fireplace. I’m trying to think of somewhere close you can Apparate to that won’t be too busy — as you said, you don’t want to end up in Diagon Alley with all those people, but I’m just trying to think of somewhere you’ll know and can Apparate to easily. I suppose we could meet outside the Leaky Cauldron, or is that too much for your first time?’

Draco looked a little apprehensive at the suggestion but said, ‘It should be okay if you’re already there waiting for me. Would you do that?’

‘Of course I will. How about we say meet at six-fifteen outside the door on the Muggle side, as that’s likely to be less crowded? That should give me time to leave work and get a takeaway and be there when you arrive.’

‘Okay. We’ll do that.’ There was just the slightest hint of a tremor in Draco’s voice.

Hermione hugged him tightly. ‘You do know I’m really proud of you for doing this, especially so quickly. I thought it might take you a while to get your head round the fact that you can leave the estate.’

‘I have an ulterior motive that’s driving me,’ Draco admitted.

‘Really? What’s that?’ Hermione stared at him curiously.

‘Your flat. I want to see how much of a fight you’re going to put up.’

Hermione looked quizzical. ‘A fight? What sort of fight?’

‘I want to see how easy it’s going to be for me to convince you to give it up and come and live here with me. You said you can walk to work from your flat, but you can get the Floo from here. It’ll be quicker,’ Draco pointed out hopefully.

Hermione chuckled. ‘You don’t even have to see my flat for me to give you the answer to that, Draco — the answer is yes, of course I’ll come and live with you. Why wouldn’t I want to? I always thought this place was fantastic, and that was while the curse was on it. It’s even more wondrous now.’

‘I still want to see your flat,’ Draco said quickly as if worried that Hermione was going to cancel his trip out.

‘And I want you to see it because I want you to understand that most people don’t live in a house like this one, they live in places like my flat and struggle along. It’ll give you an idea of how lucky you are — and I say that despite the curse,’ Hermione retorted.

‘Really, I just want to see what your bed is like,’ Draco told her cheekily.

‘Smaller than the ones here,’ Hermione said. ‘Talking of bed, I think I’m ready for my hot chocolate.’

‘Are you sure you want it?’ Draco asked between whisper-soft kisses that he was placing on her throat, making Hermione sigh gently. ‘We could forgo the drink and go straight to bed.’

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘Mmmm, actually I quite like that idea. I don’t think I need another drink anyway.’

‘An early night in readiness for tomorrow and the start of our new life together,’ Draco said, his eyes gleaming.

‘I love you, Draco.’

‘And I love you, Hermione.’

Draco removed his wand from his pocket, made sure Hermione was held tightly in his arms, and Disapparated.


End file.
